Fish Tales
by WhoLockGal
Summary: Jacqueline Holmes was raised on stories of a time-traveling alien with a blue police box for transport. Never did she expect to encounter the man for herself though. Nor did she think that he would need to enlist the help of her parents to find a missing person. RoseLock sequel to Swaddled in Pink.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, readers and a happy FanFiction Friday the 13th to you all! I know it's been a while, but here we have a new story. This is something that I've been working on for the last couple of months as a (sort of) sequel to _Swaddled in Pink_. By no means do you HAVE TO read that story first, but all of the players are the same, and it is a pretty short one-shot, so what have you got to lose? Three minutes? :)**

**Before the story begins though, I do have to thank a few people:**

**1) TheWheelWeaves - Beta, muse, idea-bouncer-off-er, and all around beautiful and fantastic person. Without her help, much of this would have stalled/not been possible. (and yes, if you haven't checked out her RoseLock series _This Rose is Extra_, do it now. You can thank me later)**

**2) SquirrelWho - the Queen of RoseLock. Thank you for introducing us all to the ship (or canoe) that we never knew we needed.**

**3) my Person... Thing - HP fanfiction brought us together 13 years ago (SWEET MOTHER OF-!) and we are still going strong. Please do not read this until you are all caught up on the Whoniverse though. There be (some) spoilers here. **

**4) The ladies who chat - LaylaCrimson & Veritascara - Always an inspiration, and full of support. Couldn't have gotten to this point without you! (And Miss LaylaCrimson - for your *grabby hands* here you go!)**

**Anyhow, enough blithering and parenthetical expressions. On with the show!**

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**Chapter 1 **

It had been a long day, and rehearsal had taken a lot out of her. While she was both honored and excited to be cast in the title role of the spring gala production of _Cinderella_, the stress of it all was starting to catch up to her. If she pulled this off, she was all but guaranteed a spot in the Royal Ballet. If not... Well, at least she had a very supportive family. Packing the last of her things into her bag, she said farewell to her friends and hurried out of the building and onto the busy streets of London.

Pausing at the corner of Floral and James Street, she dropped a few coins into the cup of a homeless man as she waited to cross. "Wotcher, Billy."

He nodded, acknowledging her generosity with a quick wink. "Thank you, Miss."

She smiled gently at him and tried hard not to roll her eyes. "Tell him I'm fine."

"Don't know what you're talking about, Miss," he replied with a smirk.

"I'll be home in plenty of time for dinner," she muttered to him before making her way back into the crowd of people.

She shook her head, thinking how everyone else in this city seemed to just overlook the homeless that they encountered. She, however, knew better. Many of the city's homeless, including Billy, were actually in the employ of her father. They did far more good than harm, despite what the masses may believe.

Jackie Holmes had been raised on stories of adventure and intrigue, murder and ascendancy (the last mostly at the hand of her Uncle Mycroft). Between the countless criminals that her father had helped to place behind bars, and the aliens that her mother had once helped the Doctor banish from the Earth and back to the stars, she knew better than to ignore her surroundings. That's how she knew to look for Billy - her father always had one of his homeless network cross her path as she left the Royal Ballet School. Or their flat. Or the shops. Or the pub. Really, he had a network of spies at his disposal and he put them to use to keep tabs on her. Not that she minded. It was how he showed affection.

However, today she also encountered something new. Intending to make a quick run into Marks & Spencer before hopping on the tube to head home, out of the corner of her eye noticed something that she never expected to come across and stopped dead in her tracks. It was blue police box that she knew for a fact hadn't been on the street earlier that day, and yet everyone seemed to walk right by it as if it wasn't worth their notice.

Swallowing back the giddy laugh that threatened to escape from her, she quickly pulled out her phone and snapped a picture, intending to send it to her mother. When the door of the police box opened and a woman with the curliest head of hair she had ever seen peeked out though, Jackie thought better of it. Instead, she quickly typed her cousin Abigail's number in along with a short message:

_999! M&S on Long Acre. Come NOW. -JX_

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It took nearly 20 minutes, but Abigail finally appeared from the recesses of the Covent Garden underground. Heaving an exasperated sigh, Jackie hurried across the street from where she had been pacing in front of Marks & Spencer and grabbed the older girl's arm to pull her to the street corner opposite the police box.

"What?" Abigail asked, somewhat annoyed by the emergency summons. She hated it when Jackie got like this; she was so revved up you could practically feel the tension vibrating off of her.

"Look!" Jackie commanded, gesturing across the street. "Look at it!"

Abigail couldn't help but roll her eyes. "What am I supposed to..." She trailed off, and Jackie knew her eyes had finally focused on it. "Oh. My. God."

Without waiting for her to say anything else, Jackie grabbed Abigail's hand and pulled her across the street. The two girls circled the police box, marveling at its very (impossible) presence. Once they arrived back at the doors, Jackie reached out tentatively toward the handle. Before she could grasp it though, the door flew open and a young man appeared in front of them, causing both to leap back in surprise.

"Oh, hello!" he exclaimed, straightening the bowtie he wore. "I don't suppose you've seen the Prince of Wales anywhere, have you?"

"Sor- Sorry?" Abigail stammered.

"This is London, isn't it?" He turned back toward the inside of the box. "River, I thought you said we were in London," he called over his shoulder.

Jackie, for her part, laughed outright. "Oh, yeah," she nodded. "Just happened to see him hopping on the tube," she told him.

The man snapped his attention back toward her, narrowing his eyes. There was something familiar about this girl, something that he couldn't quite place. "Who are you?"

"Well, who are you?" Jackie countered. "Not supposed to just talk to strangers, after all."

"You came up to my- " he huffed, but stopped when he saw her disarming grin, with just a bit of tongue poking out from between her teeth. "Box..." he finished quietly, his mind suddenly a universe - and parallel world - away. He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts, and focused back on the girls standing before him. Deciding to try another approach, he straightened up, slapped a smile across his face, and started fresh. "Hello, I'm The Doctor."

At this declaration, Jackie felt the smile slowly fade from her face. It wasn't a surprise - after all, when faced with the evidence of the blue police box it was the only logical conclusion that could be reached. However, she found that she was suddenly fighting the instinct to flee from the spot although at the same time she found herself rooted in place and her mouth suddenly dry.

Fortunately, Abigail spoke up on her behalf. "Doctor who, exactly?"

"What? Why does everybody always ask that? No who. Just The Doctor."

"Well then, The Doctor, I'm Abby Watson. And this is my cousin, Jackie," she paused momentarily for dramatic effect, just to let the name sink in. "Jackie Holmes."

As anticipated, The Doctor's eyes widened when she first said Jackie's name, once again reminded of someone worlds away. But then something else seemed to click into place. The surnames of each of the girls. That was rather odd, wasn't it?

"Sorry," another voice chimed in. The woman with the curly hair appeared at the Doctor's side. "But did you say Watson and Holmes? As in Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson?" Abigail nodded. She and Jackie looked at each other, each finding her own puzzled expression mirrored on the other's face. When they looked back at the Doctor and his companion, the woman smiled and held up a finger. "Just give us a minute," she said, pulling the Doctor back inside the box and closing the door behind them.

"Your mum is going to freak out," Abigail whispered to Jackie.

"_I_ am going to freak out."

Meanwhile, in another part of London, in a flat on Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes received another text from Billy:

_Covent Garden. Blue police box. Keeping watch on JH & AW._

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**A/N: Chapter one complete. Typical plea for reviews... they are always appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Happy Fanfiction Friday, everyone! Thanks to all for the support on this story in the form of reviews/follows/favorites. They really do make my day!**

**And of course a special thanks goes to TheWheelWeaves for her fantastic betaness! Between her grammar knowledge and general musing genius, this story would have been lost without her. **

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**Chapter 2**

The Doctor followed River to the centre console of the TARDIS, his mind still processing the girl named Jackie and the memories that she had stirred within him. River, for her part, was nearly bursting with excitement. She knew better than to believe in coincidences, so there could only be one explanation for the surnames that the girls had given.

"Parallel Earth!" She declared. "We somehow followed the signal to a parallel Earth!" Before the Doctor could formulate a response, River began typing away. "Look! Look at this," she called his attention to the monitor where she was standing. The Doctor caught the briefest glimpse of what appeared to be a blog before River continued. "He, sorry _they_, actually exist! Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. We need to find the Prince of Wales, and who better to do that than Sherlock Bloody Holmes! It's Christmas!"

"River, don't be ridiculous," the Doctor countered. "Travel between parallel universes is impossible, believe me. Do you really think that just because you found a _blog_," he said the word with disgust, "That we can just go to 221 Baker Street and find that Sherlock Holmes is real?"

"Have you got a better idea, sweetie? If so, I'd love to hear it."

River stood in front of him, the picture of innocence, waiting for him to come up with an alternative plan. Which he couldn't. He knew as well as she did that tracking the Prince's signal would only get them so far, and if they were on a parallel Earth they might not be as familiar with their surroundings as they'd like.

Grunting his assent, the Doctor turned and walked back to the door, and was surprised to find both of the girls standing right there.

"Hello," Jackie greeted him, waving her fingers in yet another all-too-familiar and all-too-impossible way.

"Fancy a lift?"

"In a box? How's that supposed to work? Have you got a Mini in there?" Abigail asked.

"Yes, but that's hardly the point." The Doctor stepped aside so that they could see past him. "Welcome to the TARDIS. It stands for-"

"The inside's bigger than the outside, yeah," Jackie interrupted, stepping in without hesitation and staring around in awe. "It's alien," she added, casually dropping her bag onto the jump seat, causing River to smirk. Not many people reacted this nonchalantly to the TARDIS on their first go.

"Yes," the Doctor replied, once again staring at her as though she was a puzzle for him to solve.

"_You're _alien," she stated, finally making eye contact with him.

"Your eyes," he breathed.

"What about them?" Jackie maintained an innocent look on her face, but inside she was chastising herself. How stupid could she be?

The Doctor, however, shook his head and once again pasted a smile on his face. Waving off River's concern, he clapped his hands together and ran to the console. "Right, so. TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Normally anywhere and anywhen you want to go, but for now just home. Baker Street, right?" He looked expectantly from Jackie - radiating excitement - to Abigail, who was still standing nervously by the door.

"Abbs?" Jackie asked quietly. "You okay?"

"They know where you live, Jax..."

"'Course they do. Saw your dad's blog pulled up on the monitor, look!"

Now it was River who stepped forward. She held out a hand to Abigail, encouraging her to join them. "I know it seems like a lot, but we're rather like your dads. We need to find someone who's gone missing and help them get back home. And who better to do that than Dr. John Watson and Sherlock Holmes?"

"Who better, indeed," Jackie agreed, winking at Abigail who smirked slightly in response. She turned to the Doctor. "221b Baker Street, if you please."

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

When Sherlock Holmes first read Billy's text about the blue police box he felt as though something were constricting his heart. What were the chances that it was, in fact, the fabled TARDIS of which his wife had so often spoken? A time and space ship come to whisk her away, to return her to a life amongst the stars and away from him. Would she jump at the chance to return to the Doctor? Could she leave him and Jackie and the life that they had built?

In his rational mind, he knew that she wouldn't do that. But in his heart, he couldn't help but ask _what if? _

There had to be some way to check, to be sure that it _wasn't_ the one being in the multiverse that could threaten his happiness. He quickly fired off a reply to Billy.

_Watch closely. Tell me everyone who enters or exits that police box. -SH_

Setting the mobile down, he picked up his violin and began to play, hopeful that the music would distract him. It didn't.

Two minutes later, he snatched his mobile up at the sound of yet another text alert.

_JH & AW disappeared inside. Don't know how, but police box gone._

"No!" Sherlock screamed, hurtling the mobile across the room. The possibility of losing Jackie to the Doctor had never crossed his mind. Of course, now that he thought about it, it should have. After all, she was 17 now. Not much younger than her mother had been when she ran off with the man.

"Is everything alright out there?" Rose called from the bathroom.

Sherlock took a deep breath to steady himself. He had been so absorbed in worrying about the _Doctor_ that he hadn't realized that the tap for the bath had turned off. Once he regained control of himself, he made his way across the flat and gently opened the bathroom door. His mouth twitched up in a small smile as he looked down upon his Rose surrounded by bubbles in the tub.

"Sherlock? Are you okay?"

"Nothing, Tulip. Just a message from Mycroft," he lied, settling on the floor and leaning his back against the tub.

Rose flung a handful of bubbles at him in protest. "Liar. And I told you ages ago to stop calling me that."

Sherlock sighed. She really did know him better than anyone else, not that he had particularly tried to pull off the lie. "Jacqueline-" he began, just as the girl in question banged open the front door.

"_Dad! Are you here?_"

Rose smiled and nudged Sherlock with a wet finger. "You were saying?"

"_You've got a client!_"

Shaking his head, Sherlock counted four sets of footsteps making their way upstairs. One was Jackie's, another - no doubt - was Abigail. But the other two... Would his daughter have brought the Doctor to him?

"Best get out there before Jax and Abbs fancy themselves as consulting detectives, _Billy_."

"_Don't_ call me Billy."

"Don't call _me_ Tulip."

Getting to his feet, he once again smiled down at his wife. The bubbles were starting to clear and he could just make out the outline of her body beneath the water's filmy surface.

Rose grinned up at him, a flirtatious tongue-in-teeth grin. "See something you like, Mr. Holmes?"

"Always," he replied, his voice deeper than before. Kneeling beside her once more, he leaned in for what was intended as a chaste kiss on the lips but quickly escalated when Rose's arms instinctually snaked around his neck with a splash, a hand entangling itself in his hair.

_"Dad!"_

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Rose released her husband and pushed him back. "Go," she giggled. "We'll finish this later."

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**A/N: Typical plea for reviews... They care always appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Once again, thank you for the support! I love seeing all of the reviews/follows/favorites. They mean so much!**

**And, as always, infinite thanks goes to my beta and banter goddess TheWheelWeaves. The latest installment of her ****_This Rose is Extra_**** series is now being posted, so go check that out!**

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**Chapter 3**

"Sorry," Jackie apologized again. "I don't know what's keeping him."

River smiled at the girl and shook her head. "It's fine, we can wait."

The Doctor, however, was fascinated by everything in the mismatched sitting room. So much so that Jackie wasn't sure that he had actually heard her. Just as he began to examine the violin, a splash could be heard from the back of the flat.

Jackie's eyes widened, mortified. "Dad!" She yelled again, causing Abigail to smirk.

A moment later, Sherlock walked into the sitting room, a towel around his neck, and buttoning his shirtsleeves. A preliminary glance ahead told him that he was right about Jackie and Abigail's arrival. With them they had brought a woman, not much older than he was - mid 40s maybe - definitely an academic, but someone who also knew how to handle herself in dangerous situations and was willing to get dirty. Literally. An anthropologist perhaps? No. "Archaeologist?" he asked aloud.

River nodded, looking impressed. "That's right. Very good, Mr. Holmes."

Finished with one identification, Sherlock turned his focus to the strange man. The other guest was younger, looked to be in his late 20s or early 30s, dressed like a ridiculous professor in a tweed jacket and bowtie, and carried himself with an air of awkward- "Don't do that," Sherlock stated, commanding the strange man's attention.

"Sorry?"

"Put the violin back where you found it," he instructed.

"Oh! Right, yes," the man said. "Sorry, just thought I'd give it a tuning..."

"You what?" Sherlock all but roared.

"Dad!" Jackie hissed, just as Abigail admonished him with an, "Uncle Sherlock!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat in his customary chair. "Where's John?" he asked Abigail.

"What for?"

"You brought us clients. Shouldn't your father be here as well?"

Relief flooded her face. "Oh, no. He's at the surgery today. Can't get away."

"Besides," Jackie chimed in. "This might be best for you and mum."

Sherlock's eyes locked on his daughter's, and he noted once again that were so much like her mother's. Her words cemented the identity of the man in the bowtie. Steeling himself and trying to determine the best means of ushering the Doctor out of his home, Sherlock once again turned his attention to the pair now seated on the sofa.

"And you are...?"

The woman with the curly hair spoke first. "Here because we need to find someone in a very delicate situation, Mr. Holmes. I am Dr. River Song," she began, confirming Sherlock's conclusion of academia . "And this is the Doctor."

"The Doctor?" Sherlock repeated. "Doctor what?"

"Dad, don't..."

"Just the Doctor," the man stated, smiling foolishly. "And you, Sherlock Holmes, what an honour. Really, a dream come true to meet you, you've no idea-"

Sherlock once again rolled his eyes. "Bored!" he declared, jumping up from his seat and walking toward the kitchen.

"Rude!" Rose yelled from the hall, causing the smile to fade from the Doctor's face as he turned toward the source of the all-too-impossibly familiar voice.

River and the Doctor both watched as a blonde woman - clearly Jackie's mother - pulled Sherlock back into the sitting room, their hands entwined in such a way that they looked to be sculpted together. River couldn't help but smile at the pair, feeling somewhat amused as the blonde pushed him back into his seat and perched herself on the arm of the chair.

"Sorry 'bout him," she said, gently smacking Sherlock's shoulder. "I'm Rose. Rose Tyler-Holmes," she introduced herself, reaching out to shake River's hand.

"River Song."

"And you?" Rose asked the Doctor kindly, now extending her hand to him.

For his part, the Doctor couldn't speak. He looked from Rose - his impossible Rose! - to Jackie. No wonder she had seemed so familiar... She may have her fath- _Sherlock's _hair, but she had her mother's eyes and smile. And named for Jackie Tyler to boot. He was a stupid old man sometimes.

"I- I- is anyone else warm?" the Doctor stammered, loosening his bowtie and collapsing back onto the sofa.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he watched three of the four women rush to the Doctor's side, all talking at once. Abigail made a beeline for the kitchen.

"Abbs, water," Jackie called.

"No, Abigail, get him some tea," Rose countered, causing the ghost of a smile to appear across the Doctor's face. Tea from a Tyler could cure anything, he recalled.

"Sweetie," River said, cradling his face in one of her hands while reaching for his sonic screwdriver with the other. "Doctor, are you alright?" She made to scan him with the sonic when he pushed her hand away.

Ignoring River's question, he turned to face Rose who had frozen in place at her actions. "Hello, Rose Tyler," he whispered, revelling in the fact that he was once again saying her name out loud. "New new new Doctor."

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**A/N: A bit shorter today, but that happens. Typical plea for reviews... They are always appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm so glad that you are all enjoying this so far!**

**Once again, many thanks to ****TheWheelWeaves for her role as beta and sounding board. **

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**Chapter 4**

"Who is she?" River asked with a measured calm in her voice that was only belied by the slamming of the TARDIS door behind them.

"Not now, River," the Doctor replied, shaking his head. He crossed to the console and began typing, the start of a frantic search for answers.

River glared at the Doctor as he traced invisible lines across the monitors, trying to create some sort of logical progression to explain how Rose was able to be in this world. Shaking his head and muttering to himself, he was unable to figure it out. He knew that Rose shouldn't have been able to cross the void from one parallel universe to another, and yet here she was.

He could say with absolute certainty that they were not in Pete's World - the reigning monarchy and lack of Zeppelins confirmed that - so how had she ended up in a universe where Sherlock Holmes and John Watson walked the Earth? And, furthermore, what other fictional characters might be out there? No, he was getting distracted.

The Doctor let out a frustrated groan and rubbed his hands across his face. "It doesn't make sense. None of this should be possible, and yet-"

"Here she is," River finished.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed. "But not only that. Here _we _are."

"What do you mean?"

"You said it yourself, River. We're on a parallel Earth. Somehow, we managed to cross the Void into a parallel universe, which hasn't been possible since before…" he trailed off.

"The Time War," River breathed, sliding her hand into his and giving it a supportive squeeze. "But, even with that, sweetie, who is she?"

The Doctor sighed, resigned. "Rose Tyler," he began. "We travelled together for two years. I met her just- just after the War."

"Oh, my love…"

"It was a long time ago, things happened, and she left. She was gone. Safe on a parallel world with her family and- well, on a world that should have been sealed off," he said. "I should have known better," he added, muttering under his breath. "She jumped across before, so of course she'd do it again."

"When you say jumped…?"

"Doesn't matter," he sighed. "We have a monarchy to save."

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Once Abigail left and the Holmes family was alone, Rose had taken over Sherlock's normal pacing route through the sitting room of their flat. It was times like this that she wished she had a Mind Palace like that of her husband's. It would be a much easier way for her to sift through the information that she was currently processing: the Doctor was there.

How was that possible? He was looking for someone, apparently something to do with the Prince of Wales, which didn't make much sense to her. However, it was par for the course with him. How had he known to find her? Did he intend to do so? How did she feel about that? Was Jackie going to swan off with him? What about her dancing? She was so incredibly talented- No, getting sidetracked now.

This. _This _is what the Doctor did to her. He addled her mind to the point where she could veer off course from the topic at hand far too easily. Yes, Rose knew that she would have to deal with him sooner or later, but first they - she, Sherlock, and possibly John, but definitely _not_ the girls - would try to help him and this River Song find who they were looking for.

No doubt some far away world hung in the balance. Who was River Song though? They appeared to be- No. _That_ River Song? She hadn't thought about that name for so long, what if- Not again.

"Where are they?" Rose suddenly asked aloud, frozen mid-step between the window and Sherlock's chair.

"What?" Sherlock asked, just as Jackie asked "Who?"

"Your secret stash. Where are your cigarettes?"

Sherlock sighed and stood, crossing to the kitchen where he exhumed a pack from the back of a cabinet. Expertly flipping one cigarette out of the pack and between his lips, he pulled a lighter from his pocket as he made his way back to Rose. After taking a long drag from the cigarette himself, he passed it to her and watched in fascination as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

"_Mum! Daddy!_" Jackie was horrified. Her parents didn't smoke.

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**A/N: Another short chapter, I know. It just seemed the best stopping point. Anyhow, insert typical plea for reviews here. I do appreciate them!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So many new followers & favorites! Thank you, dear readers! I hope that you continue to enjoy...**

**And, as always, I would be remiss not to thank TheWheelWeaves for her fantastic beta tendencies. I'd be lost without that one... now go read her _This Rose is Extra_ series!**

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**Chapter 5 **

The Doctor wasn't entirely sure how it had happened, but once again he found himself in Rose Tyler's sitting room asking her _husband_ and his partner, John Watson, for help.

"What sort of signal was it that led you here?" Sherlock asked with an almost clinically detached precision.

"The British royal family has been implanted with a sort of tracking device at birth since the late 42nd century," River explained.

"What, like a GPS?" John interrupted, somewhat appalled by the idea.

"If you like," River agreed. "With all of the interplanetary travel and the stretch of the Empire, it made sense as the targets on their backs grew to be more intergalactic in nature." She paused as John appeared poised to ask another question, but then thought better of it after a quick glance toward Sherlock and Rose. Once he nodded, she continued her explanation. "There was a slight downward trend for the practice at the start of the 48th, so we're fortunate that Her Majesty was fitted with it at all. However, due to the transformation it is slightly harder to get an exact read on her location."

Perched on the arm of Sherlock's chair, Rose looked from River to the Doctor. "But Jackie said that you were looking for the Prince of Wales?"

"That's right," the Doctor replied, his eyes softening at being addressed directly by her. Even after all of this time. "He disappeared with his mother, although she was still in human form at the time."

"Then you should be able to get a lock on him, no doubt with your Queen, and be on your way," Sherlock said glaring, his hands steepled below his chin. "Case closed."

"Sherlock!" both Rose and John chided.

River sighed at the smug look on the Doctor's face. "Unfortunately, it's not that simple," she said. "The TARDIS isn't meant to be here. She can't just read the signal as she would in her own universe."

"She?" John asked.

This time thought it was Rose who answered. "Of course 'she.' The TARDIS is a sentient ship-" she stopped short, her eyes wide in horror as realization struck. "Is she alright? Did something happen again when you crossed the Void?"

"No, she's fine," the Doctor assured her. "It's not like before." He purposely ignored the looks he was getting from everyone in the room _other than_ Rose. "The TARDIS crystals are fully charged and she's running perfectly. It's just some of the scanners aren't reading correctly as the signals originate from our universe. I've got them calibrating now, to adjust to this.. this world."

John cleared his throat. "Question. Earlier, did you say that Her Majesty was _transformed_?"

"Why yes, my dear Watson," the Doctor practically giggled. "Sorry, always wanted to say that. But yes. She is not currently human."

"And that would make her…?"

"Currently? A goldfish," River sighed.

"Oh, dear lord," Sherlock exclaimed, rolling his eyes. Why did everyone insist on wasting his time? Turning to Rose, he shook his head. "I just… No. I have actual work that needs to be addressed. If they insist on chasing down a _goldfish_, perhaps Mycroft would be a better fit."

Rose and John both (barely) managed to contain the laughter that threatened to surface at Sherlock's outburst while the Doctor and River simply looked on in confusion. Glaring at the room at large, Sherlock jumped up and stalked toward the door, grabbing his scarf and coat out of habit. Throwing the door open, he just caught sight of Jackie making a hasty retreat from where she most likely had been listening on the other side of the wall.

"Jacqueline Violet Tyler Holmes!" he boomed.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

"But it's not fair," Jackie whined, collapsing onto the sofa in a huff. It wasn't right that she had gotten in trouble. After all, if not for her then the Doctor and River never would have even found their way to Baker Street, and her parents wouldn't be helping them to find the missing Royals.

"Life, my dear, is hardly ever fair," Mycroft Holmes replied, not looking up from his newspaper.

"They banished me, Uncle Mike," she whined again, and he was thankful that the newspaper kept his involuntary smirk hidden from her. "Why can't I go home and help the Doctor and River?"

Sighing, Mycroft folded the paper and looked at his niece. "Is it really a punishment to spend time here, Jacqueline?"

Jackie's eyes grew wide. "I didn't mean it like that! I just meant-"

"I know what you meant, my dear. And you're here for your own safety."

"But-"

"Enough of this," Mycroft said, pushing himself to his feet. "Go change. We have a box for _Giselle_, and the curtain goes up in 40 minutes." He smiled internally as he watched a grin slowly spread across Jackie's face before she jumped up, squealing in delight.

Mycroft knew better than anyone that the best way to distract her from anything, including the _Doctor, _was to allow her to get lost at the ballet.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

Sherlock was trying as best he could to compartmentalize everything that had been said and done since the arrival of the TARDIS in his life. He hated the fact that he sent Jackie away, but he truly believed that she would be better off with Mycroft and away from the... _clients_. Attempting to push all thoughts of the Doctor aside, he turned his focus to the spleen that was currently boiling on the stove.

Lifting the organ with a fine mesh skimmer for a closer look, it suddenly occurred to Sherlock that he had inadvertently used one of the designated "food only" pots from the kitchen. He sighed and silently cursed the Doctor for keeping him from focusing properly. He would need to scrap the experiment as it was not a copper bottom pot but instead stainless steel, and therefore the conduction and heat accumulation levels he had tracked could not be relied upon.

The sound of a text alert brought Sherlock out of his frustrated reverie. Pushing the lab equipment aside, he finally managed to unearth his phone. Mycroft.

_Red alert at Buckingham Palace. Madman claiming to be Prince of Wales demanding entry. In custody. -MH_

Sherlock knew immediately that this could only mean one thing. But how would Mycroft know? Unless-

_What did Jackie tell you? -SH_

_Everything. -MH_

"I knew it," he muttered. Of course she had been listening at the door. This is precisely why he had to send her away.

_Where is she? -SH_

He waited, staring at the phone, willing it to chime.

_With me. Royal Opera House for _Giselle_. Really, Sherlock. -MH_

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

_Where did you send him? -SH_

_Bethlem Royal Hospital. They are awaiting your arrival. -MH_

Leaving a note for Rose, Sherlock hastily grabbed his coat and scarf and looked for a taxi. Letting out a frustrated growl at the fact that there was nary a car in sight, he ran up the street hoping for better luck at the main intersection. Just as he turned the corner though, he spotted them from the corner of his eye. The Doctor and that River Song must have seen him leaving the flat and were now giving chase.

Rolling his eyes, he flung his arm out and was relieved to have a taxi stop within seconds. "Bethlem Royal Hospital," he barked to the cabbie, slamming the door shut behind him. _This should be interesting_, he thought. One never knew what sort of madness a visit to Bethlem - better known to history as Bedlam - would bring.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. They are always appreciated!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Once again, countless thanks to my beta and sounding board, TheWheelWeaves (who also named our dear prince!). And to all of you, readers, for putting up with this madness even though (most of) you don't know me.**

**Speaking of madness though, and if you want to get to know me, it does continue over there on the black hole timesuck known as Tumblr. Same username applies. **

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**Chapter 6**

"Check the monitor again," the Doctor called from under the centre console. "I think that it should- Ow!" he yelled, receiving yet another shock from the TARDIS.

"I told you to leave her alone," River scolded from above.

"And I told you we need to get the scanners back online."

"Doctor, look at this."

"What is it?" he asked, attempting to fuse two wires together while ignoring the shocks that the TARDIS kept sending his way. The sooner that they could address the issue of the missing Queen, the sooner he could focus his attention on Rose Tyler.

"Doctor, now," River insisted. "It's Sherlock."

Dropping the wires, the Doctor scrambled to his feet and up to the console room, pulling the monitor toward him so that he could see what was happening outside. "Where are you off to in such a hurry, Mr. Holmes?"

"And without Rose," River added, peering sideways at the Doctor to gauge his reaction.

"Let's find out, shall we?"

Hurrying outside, the pair of them followed Sherlock down the block, running flat out when they lost sight of him turning the corner. Just as they made it to the main road, River shouted.

"There!" She pointed another block ahead of them and saw him getting into a taxi. They both began running again, but it was too late. He had seen them, and the taxi sped off.

"Why are you stopping?" the Doctor demanded. "We can still catch him."

River smiled and shook her head. "Why not let him catch us?"

"What?"

"Sweetie, please." Motioning to her wrist, she brought the Doctor's attention to the vortex manipulator that she always wore. "Given the direction and speed of the taxi…" she punched in coordinates and reached out for the Doctor. "Go on, then. Give us a hand."

The Doctor nodded and placed his hand in hers. A split second later, they had moved - no longer standing on the sidewalk, but instead in the middle of the street - the taxi's brakes screeching in protest as the car came to a sudden halt to avoid slamming into them.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

It had been a surprisingly long 24 hours. As Rose went through the motions of her nightly routine, she found that she was no closer to making sense of things than she had been at the start. Long ago she had accepted – no, loved - her life here, and it was not something that she would willingly trade or give up without a fight.

However, seeing the Doctor again - even this new regeneration - stirred old memories: running hand in hand to the next adventure, fighting Daleks and demons, meeting the father she lost, rescuing worlds that she had never even dreamed of before... It was all still there. Over the years the stories would come up, fantastical tales of her old life that she used to entertain her daughter. Stories that, while always believed, were suddenly cemented into truth with the unexpected arrival of the TARDIS.

Rose sighed, staring critically at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she pulled her hair up and into a messy bun. There were new lines and creases that hadn't been there before, certainly not when the Doctor first grabbed her hand and told her to run. She shook her her head, realizing that she was now older than her mother had been when she left home to travel with him. When had she gotten so old?

Applying the last of her moisturiser, and smiling slightly at the memory of Cassandra the practice always conjured, Rose took a deep breath and steeled herself to do battle with her husband. The Doctor needed his help, and damned if he wasn't going to get it. What she didn't expect was to find herself alone in the flat, a hastily scribbled note sitting next to the scattered lab equipment on the kitchen table:

_Needed milk. ~SH_

"'Needed milk' my arse," Rose snarled, storming into the bedroom and throwing on a pair of jeans and jumper. Snatching up her keys and mobile, she all but flew down the stairs and out onto the street. "Two can play at this game," she muttered, opening up the GPS app to track Sherlock's whereabouts. "Taxi!"

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

Sherlock very nearly growled as the Doctor and River Song climbed into the taxi with him. While a part of him was curious to know how they were able to suddenly appear on the road in front of him, the rest of him was annoyed as he had been hoping to make this particular trip alone.

"Hello, sweetie," River said, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face as she climbed into the seat opposite him. "Mind if we join you? We'd be ever so grateful."

Glaring in response, and purposely ignoring the Doctor's presence next to him, Sherlock knocked on the glass partition behind the driver. "What are you waiting for? Drive on," he snapped.

"Someone's certainly grumpy," River smiled. "You left in such a hurry, we could hardly catch up. Had to cheat a bit," she added, gesturing to something strapped to her wrist. At first he thought it was a watch, but now that he was closer he could see it was far too large. "Vortex manipulator."

"Cheap and nasty time travel," the Doctor added, staring out the window. "Very bad for you-"

"But very effective," River countered. "Motorbike through traffic."

Sherlock simply shook his head, no longer interested in the conversation. Instead, he pulled out his mobile phone and pretended to be scrolling through his messages, all the while considering the best way to approach the suspect that was waiting for him. From everything he had been told to this point, the man was human - simply from the future. Should that change anything? Probably not. And he had dealt with royalty before, so that wouldn't be new. Rose of course might have a few things to say-

"You left her at Baker Street," the Doctor said.

He turned to glare at the Doctor. "I don't typically take a chaperone to question a suspect."

"I just mean that she doesn't like being left behind."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "That's certainly interesting coming from you, _Doctor_."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at Sherlock and opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by River.

"Ooh, Bedlam then. This should be fun!"

Apparently they had arrived at their destination.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

It had been surprisingly simple to gain access to the patient, thanks in large part to Mycroft. The thought might usually make Sherlock want to cringe, but this time he was grateful. Both he and his brother could agree on one thing: this entire situation needed to be resolved quickly and painlessly, leaving the family intact and his daughter - and Rose - decidedly on Earth once the Doctor took his leave. However, Sherlock did make a mental note to take a closer look at the supposed credentials that the Doctor had presented to the guards upon their arrival.

Before saying a word, the first thing the Doctor had done was scan the room with his sonic screwdriver. Once confident that they weren't being watched or recorded, both he and River seated themselves at the table opposite the patient.

"Hello, Your Highness," the Doctor greeted him, inclining his head slighting. "I'm the Doctor."

"You dare mock me," the Prince glared in response. "None of the _doctors _here seem to believe that I am who I say."

"We wouldn't mock you, Highness," River replied. "We're here to help, both you and your mother."

At that, the Prince's head snapped up. "You know," he breathed, turning to face the Doctor. "You say you're the Doctor?" He paused for a moment, taking in the man's appearance. "Yes, I see it now. Just as the stories say. You were on Starship UK with Liz X and the starwhale. You helped save our people."

The Doctor nodded, a smug look on his face as he straightened his bowtie. "And I will help save you, too. Now please, tell us what happened."

Sherlock watched from the corner of the room as the Doctor and River questioned their alleged Prince of Wales, _Wendell_. He narrowed his eyes, deciding that 'question' wasn't the right word for what they were doing… Coddle would be more accurate.

The pair continued to coax the story from Wendell - something involving an alien race known as the Terileptil and the transmutation of his mother - with brief interruptions to ask for more detail. Throughout the process, Sherlock found that he couldn't look away. Yes, the story that this Prince provided was fascinating… An alien race of fish people? That could potentially account for the goldfish, although not why he would have been able to run across universes.

Really, the story itself is not what drew his attention. Instead, it was the man who was telling it. Sherlock watched as Wendell spoke, noticing how although he hardly broke eye contact with the Doctor, he was in constant motion - fidgeting almost imperceptibly in his seat all the while relishing in the steady stream of flattery and adulation being foisted upon him.

Sherlock had initially held such high hopes for this encounter and yet here the Doctor and River were, ruining it. Refusing to pay attention to the evidence in front of them, they were simply eating up everything that Wendell fed them. For once though, Sherlock decided to be patient. He would allow them to collect whatever information they deemed necessary, and then he would demand the truth.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. They are always appreciated and, quite frankly, make my day!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Countless thanks to TheWheelWeaves for all of her help and inspiration along the way. Including a line or two in this chapter (and many more later on)... Thanks, love!**

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**Chapter 7**

Rose sat in the hospital reception area, flipping through an old magazine as she waited for her husband to appear. She knew that he was here, tracking him down was so much easier now that the technology was there. The only question was whether this trip to Bedlam was related to the Doctor or another case that he might have been working on, and she felt certain that she'd know the answer to that soon enough.

Tossing the magazine aside, Rose was just about to go in search of a cup of tea when an unfortunately familiar curly head of hair came into view.

"Doctor, then," she mumbled to herself, grabbing another magazine and hiding behind it.

"Sir, I am very sorry," an unfamiliar voice began, "But we cannot simply allow you to leave with the patient-"

"Right, yes. About that… Sherlock?"

"Mr. Holmes was only granted access to the patient. You should never have been-"

"In that case, this should explain everything."

Rose bit her lip to stifle the giggle that was threatening to escape. No doubt the Doctor had just pulled out his psychic paper. She couldn't help but wonder what sort of story it would display for this particular situation.

A moment later, she saw both the Doctor and River Song step around the corner, leading a man in handcuffs (where had those come from?). A surly looking Sherlock was behind them.

"Did you get the milk then?" she asked, setting the magazine back down. "I know that _he_," she continued, nodding toward the Doctor, "Always loves a little shop. But really, Sherlock. Bedlam?"

"Tesco was out," Sherlock quipped.

The Doctor grinned when he saw Rose standing in the waiting area just ahead of them. "Did you need to stop at the little shop? Sherly didn't mention that he needed-"

"Let me stop you there, Doctor," Rose interrupted, stepping quickly between him and Sherlock after noticing the fist that her husband had formed. "You used to have a self-preservation instinct. Did you lose that with the regeneration? Because _this_ conversation? It has nothing to do with you."

Hearing Rose's admonishment of the Doctor helped Sherlock to relax. He really did need to speak with her, to update her on what he had learned, but now was not the time. It would have to wait until they were alone. Instead, he released the tension in his fist and interlaced his fingers with hers.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, his mouth twitching up slightly when she squeezed his hand in response and simply nodded.

"Now you," Rose said, tapping the newest addition to the group on the shoulder. "You're the Prince of Wales that they were looking for, yeah?"

"That's correct."

"So, why the handcuffs then?"

The young man pursed his lips in obvious displeasure before answering. "It would seem that I am their prisoner."

"Long story," River said, leading the group out of the hospital.

"Well, no, not really," the Doctor disagreed. "Psychic paper." He turned to face Rose, holding out the battered paper for her. "CIA. Not bad, eh?"

Rose smiled and shook her head as Sherlock frowned. "CIA?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's psychic, you see?" Rose explained. "Shows people what you want or they need to see."

"I don't understand."

"It's not that complicated," the Doctor said, smirking slightly. "Why? What do you think it says?"

Sherlock looked at him, confused. "Nothing. It's blank."

"But that's not…" the Doctor trailed off, sighing. "Right. Should have known. Didn't work on Shakespeare either."

"Sorry, what?"

"Don't mind him," River trilled. "He's just having a bit of a pout. The psychic paper doesn't work on geniuses."

Smiling smugly, Sherlock brought Rose's hand up to his lips and kissed it. His head held a bit higher, he walked them around the group and called for a taxi.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

The drive back to Baker Street was virtually silent. Rose sat between River and Sherlock, her head resting on his shoulder and her eyes closed as he absent-mindedly traced circles on the palm of her hand with his thumb, keeping his eyes trained on the Prince and purposely ignoring the Doctor who was watching them with narrowed eyes from his seat opposite.

The Doctor had never intended for this to happen. When he left Rose on Pete's World, he genuinely believed that she would be both happy and safe there. She wasn't supposed to feel the need to cross the Void, to use the dimension cannon again. Hell, she wasn't supposed to be able to. Pete's World should have been locked away, the cracks sealed.

Of course after everything he had seen in the last few years, he should have known better than to believe that. The cracks in the universe had returned with a vengeance, all seeming to convene around one Amelia Pond.

_Amy_! She and Rory were still tucked safely away in the TARDIS, or he hoped that they were. Taking his head in his hands, the Doctor contemplated how to best deal with the fiery ginger that would no doubt be waiting for them when they returned. But then again, maybe not. She was quite ill when they began this journey, so hopefully Rory would continue to keep her confined. The last thing that he needed was for Amy to insert herself and her opinions into this. Well, whatever _this _was. He sighed, exchanging a look with River before turning his gaze back to the man now glowering at him.

The taxi slowed as they approached their destination. Looking down at his wife beside him, Sherlock smiled softly noticing that she had fallen asleep on the journey home. Under normal circumstances, he was a firm believer in keeping private things private. However, prolonged exposure to the Doctor made him want to assert his claim over Rose.

Ignoring the thought that she would disapprove, he went forward. "Tulip," he whispered, smirking as she swatted his chest with the back of her hand.

"Sh'up, Billy," she mumbled.

He simply laughed in response, his real laugh. The one that he knew she couldn't resist, that she said actually reached his eyes. Sure enough, it worked and she snuggled up closer to him in the seat, a sleepy smile on her face. In response, Sherlock wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head before making eye contact with the Doctor, his eyebrow raised in victory at the scowl on the other man's face.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

With Wendell safely tucked away in a newly formed room of the TARDIS, River found herself wandering the corridors in search of the Doctor. Although she had managed to keep a level head in front of Sherlock Holmes and _Rose Tyler_, River was less than pleased with the Doctor's behaviour. He wasn't usually one to get jealous, and she felt quite appalled by his seeming competition with Sherlock for the blonde woman's attention.

Making her way into the library, River finally found her quarry. There he was, sitting on an old sofa, book in hand. Stepping forward, she peered down at the thick volume and didn't bother to hide the smirk from her face.

"Arthur Conan Doyle? So are you taken with Sherlock and his kaleidoscope eyes as well then?"

The Doctor snapped the book shut and glared at River. "Are you jealous?" he asked.

"Me?" she scoffed. "_You're_ hardly his type, but I can understand what Rose sees in him. He is not only brilliant, but-"

"River…"

"Quite good looking, those cheekbones, his eyes-"

"River."

"And that hair! Such great hair…"

"Enough!" The Doctor rounded on River with such ferocity that she actually stepped back from him.

"_You're_ jealous," she whispered. "You're actually jealous of him."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not jealous," he insisted. "None of this is right. We shouldn't be here. We need to find her-" he paused, noting River's quirked eyebrow, "_Majesty_ and return to our universe. Set things right." He turned away from River, not wanting to talk any more. "Jealous…" he muttered as he walked out of the library.

River, for her part, sighed. "Oh, Doctor. The lady doth protest too much…"

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

"No, really," Rose insisted, taking a sip of her tea as she curled up next to Sherlock on the sofa. "I'm awake. Now tell me, what did he say?"

Sherlock took a moment before responding. He was fairly certain that Rose didn't mean the Doctor, but a small part of him still wondered. Rather than ask though, he ran through his analysis of the interrogation. "He told them exactly what he thought they wanted to hear. That he and his mother were attacked by an alien race, and he took her and ran for their safety."

"But you don't believe that?"

He smiled at Rose. She was clever - he felt confident that had she been in the room with them that she would have picked up on the truth as well. "Not entirely, no. He was lying, leaving something out. Hopefully the answer is in here somewhere," he added, dumping the contents of a large envelope onto the coffee table. "Their Prince's personal effects."

For the most part, there wasn't anything too out of the ordinary in the pile. A watch, a ring, some spare change, a receipt, and-

"That's odd," Rose said, sifting through the coins. "Why would he have local currency on him?"

Sherlock shrugged, only half listening. He was distracted by the device he had just picked up: a vortex manipulator, similar to the one that River Song wore. Cradling the gadget gently in one hand, he flipped it open with the other, his fingers itching to enter in some form of code or coordinates to see what would happen. Before he could though, he found his hands empty.

Looking over at Rose in surprise, he resisted the urge to grab the vortex manipulator back. "Do you even know what it is?"

"'Course I do," Rose replied, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "But how do you?"

"River Song."

Rose looked momentarily confused. "The Doctor's travelling with a time agent? That's new..."

"Time agent?"

"Vortex manipulator, standard issue from the Time Agency. Maybe she's left? Jack had..."

"Jack?"

"Captain Jack Harkness," Rose replied, with a bit more fondness than Sherlock thought necessary. "He travelled with us for a while, rescued me from a barrage balloon during the London Blitz. Surely I mentioned him, yeah?"

Sherlock was silent for a moment, but finally nodded. "He was there at the end, wasn't he?"

Rose smiled sadly. "Yeah, no getting rid of him. But the point is he had one of these. Kept it even though he left the Agency in the 51st century, well after the Prince's time."

"So then the question we need answered is what was this man doing with this technology in his possession? It seems unlikely that he would be employed by this... organization."

Rose shook her head. "No, it isn't the tech that matters. It's what he did." She reached over and grabbed the receipt that had been sitting on the table. "You said that his mum had been changed into a goldfish, yeah? Possibly like the one that he returned to St. James Aquatica for £3.50?" Rose concluded triumphantly.

"May I see?" Sherlock asked, holding his hand out for her to pass him the receipt.

Instead, Rose held on to the slip of paper, a coy look upon her face. "I figured it out, so what do I get in return?"

A slow smile spread across Sherlock's face as he decided his next move. Deftly stepping over the coffee table, Sherlock was rewarded with a surprised squeal as he caught Rose off guard by pinning her against the sofa. "You, Mrs. Holmes, get reminded that we are, for once, alone in this house with no one to hear us."

"Well then, Mr. Holmes," Rose practically purred, looking up at her husband with her tongue poking out from between her teeth. "What are you waiting for?"

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. They really do make me smile!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This was a fun chapter to write... I hope that you all find that it's fun to read, too. **

**As always, none of this is possible without the beta goddess that is TheWheelWeaves. xoxoxo**

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**Chapter 8**

It took quite a bit of convincing, but Jackie finally managed to talk Mycroft into allowing her to go back home to pick up some items for rehearsal. Of course the compromise that they struck involved one of his drivers accompanying her to Baker Street, but there were worse things that could have happened; he could have insisted on chaperoning her instead.

As the car pulled up to the house, Jackie was pleased to see that the TARDIS was still parked across the street from the front door. She briefly debated whether or not she could make it to the time and space ship before her bodyguard could catch her, but then promptly decided against it. If she was late for today's dress rehearsal it wouldn't do her any good. She would have to wait and talk to the Doctor later.

"I'll only be a few minutes," she said, stepping out of the car door as the driver held it open for her.

"Sorry, miss. I am to accompany you inside and wait," he replied.

"I won't tell Uncle Mike," she tried, knowing full well it was a lost cause. Even if she didn't say a word - which she wouldn't - Mycroft no doubt had eyes on her right now. So instead, Jackie held her head up high, looked around for a moment until she saw the security camera over the deli, and promptly stuck her tongue out at it before pulling her key out and opening her front door.

"Mum!" she called, rushing up the stairs. "Mum! Have you seen my- UGH!" Jackie groaned as she barged into the sitting room, only to discover her parents where they had… _fallen asleep_ the night before. Turning her back to the pair on the sofa, Jackie crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. "I swear! You two are like bunnies. Do you have to do this _every time_ I leave you alone?"

"'Morning to you too, sweetheart," Rose smiled, pulling Sherlock's discarded shirt on and doing up the buttons as she stood.

Sherlock stretched and rubbed his neck, grunting slightly when it finally cracked. Perhaps he was getting too old to actually sleep on the sofa. "What?" he asked when he saw Rose looking down at him, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

She shook her head and tossed his trousers to him before heading into the kitchen. "Come on, Jax. Let's get you some breakfast before rehearsal."

Five minutes later, Jackie dropped her ballet bag on the floor next to the coffee table and accepted the plate of toast and a mug of tea from her mother. Frowning slightly, she set the food down on the table and deftly flipped a sofa cushion over before taking a seat, all the while pointedly ignoring her father's smirk.

Before Rose could return to the kitchen for her own tea, there was a knock at the front door followed by the sound of it opening. She stepped into the hall, expecting to see John walk in and was surprised to instead find one of Mycroft's yes men standing in the foyer and answering the door on their behalf, denying entry to the Doctor and River no less.

"It's quite alright, David," Rose called, rolling her eyes.

The man turned to look up at her and immediately averted his gaze. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Holmes. But Mr. Holmes gave me specific instructions-"

The Doctor looked offended at the very thought. Would Sherlock stoop to this level? "Now listen here, I highly doubt that Sherlock-" He cut himself off when his gaze fell upon Rose, who apparently was only wearing a man's oxford shirt. Suddenly he found himself unable to remember what he had been trying to say.

"David, you know perfectly well that Mike has no say in what happens inside this house," Rose admonished the one while smiling and shaking her head at the now silent Doctor. "Now come upstairs, the lot of you. There's coffee in the pot and tea in the kettle, whichever you prefer." With that, she returned to the sitting room. "You could have mentioned that Uncle Mike sent David."

"Just as well I didn't, it was bad enough that I walked in on the two of you. He doesn't need to witness that as well…"

"Oh, the cheek on you," Sherlock said before kissing the top of her head and stealing a piece of toast from her plate as he passed, earning a glare in return. "Good morning, David," he added as the others joined them in the sitting room. "How is my dear brother this morning? I trust Mycroft hasn't started any new wars that we need to be made aware of?"

David simply shook his head and accepted the cup of coffee that Rose brought over to him. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Rose."

"Rose."

Rose grinned triumphantly. "And you, River? Doctor? Some of mum's tea maybe?"

River remained in the doorway observing the scene before her as the Doctor blinked rapidly and mentally shook himself at being addressed by Rose when she was wearing… Forcing his eyes to refocus, he was horrified to realize that he had been staring at her legs. A nervous giggle escaped his lips, but to his relief, it was drowned out by a teenage groan.

Climbing over the coffee table as her father so often did, Jackie carried her dirty dishes toward the kitchen. "Can't you just wear clothes like a normal person?" she hissed to her mother as she passed.

"Watch it," Sherlock warned, his mouth twitching up into a smile as he saw Rose turn and wrap her arms around Jackie.

"Oh, you don't mean that, my love. You love your mummy and wouldn't ever change me."

Jackie couldn't help but laugh as her mother assaulted her with kisses, which was of course what Rose had planned. "Mum, stop! I have to go," she whined, wriggling out from Rose's grasp. "Final dress starts at 11, and I need to get ready."

"Go on, and don't forget the hair pin."

"That's what I came home for in the first place," Jackie called, running upstairs to her bedroom.

"And here I thought it was for me..." Turning back to the main room with a mug of tea now in her hands, Rose noticed the Doctor looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. "Too domestic for you?"

"What?"

"You're staring, Doctor."

"Wha- no. Sorry. You just reminded me of... Of Jackie. Tyler, I mean. Your mum. Which you would know, that's who I-"

"Yeah?" Rose asked softly, stopping his rambling.

He smiled and nodded. "Without a doubt. She'd be so proud of you, Rose."

Before she could second guess herself, Rose engulfed the Doctor in a hug - the first proper hug the two had shared in nearly 20 years for her, and who knew how many for him. "Thank you," she whispered into his chest.

The Doctor held Rose tighter to him, relishing in the fact that she was once again in his arms and trying his best to ignore the fact that he knew both Sherlock and River were watching them. To Sherlock's credit though, he said nothing - choosing to simply watch the two of them over the top of his newspaper. River, however, was another story entirely. Her eyes narrowed and she was about to snap at the Doctor when Jackie burst back into the room.

"Mum, think fast!" she yelled, throwing something at Rose.

Pushing back from the Doctor, Rose turned and caught the item: a pair of yoga pants. "Oh, ha ha, sweetheart. Now go or you'll be late."

Jackie ran over and kissed Rose on the cheek before doing to same for her father.

"We'll see you tonight," Sherlock said.

"What's tonight?"

"Our Spring Gala with the Royal Ballet," Jackie answered from the doorway. "You will come, won't you, Doctor? River?"

"Of course they will," Rose assured her.

"Wouldn't miss it," River added, pasting a smile on her face.

"Cheers!" Jackie grinned. "Oh, and I borrowed some money you left on the table," she added, flying down the stairs.

"That was evidence!" Sherlock yelled after her, but to no avail.

Jackie laughed as she ran down the stairs and out the door to where David was now waiting by the car. Unfortunately, as she did so she flew right into someone walking up the front steps.

"Careful now," John said, catching her before she fell.

"Hi, Uncle John! Bye, Uncle John!" she grinned, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before jumping into the car. "See you tonight!"

John simply smiled and shook his head at the girl, watching as the car window opened. "Be careful up there," she warned. "They were alone all night."

"Thanks for the heads up," he replied, chuckling.

Confident that her work at Baker Street was now done, Jackie closed the window and faced the driver. "David? Can we make a quick stop before heading to the theatre? I want to pick something up for Uncle Mike..."

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. Maybe just a little one? pleasethanksbye.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: It really means a lot that so many of you are (still) reading/following/liking this story. THANK YOU! And now, on with the show!**

**And Person (and others who might care) - spoilers for DW S6 in this one. Be warned.**

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**Chapter 9**

John took the stairs two at a time, but stopped short at the door to the sitting room. Thinking back on what Jackie had said, he decided it would probably be wise to announce himself.

"Rose? Sherlock? I'm coming in, so just... Be warned," he called out. "And dressed," he added quickly. "Please be dressed this time." Taking a deep breath and preparing for the worst - something he had witnessed more often than he'd care to admit - John entered the sitting room.

"Good morning John," Rose smiled from her position in the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"Yes, thanks," he replied, somewhat bemused by the scene before him. Before he could ask what the Doctor and River were doing there though, a text alert chimed from Sherlock's mobile.

Glancing at the phone on the table beside him, Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his newspaper. "Evidence," he said, managing to answer John's unasked question.

"What evidence?"

"Evidence that Jackie stole, apparently," River chimed in.

"Borrowed," the Doctor corrected, causing Rose to smile.

"Why would Jackie steal evidence?"

"Apparently she needed some money," Sherlock replied, once again frowning at his mobile. "Shouldn't get too far on 3 quid though."

John shook his head and gave up on trying to figure out exactly what was going on. Smiling his thanks to Rose for the coffee, he reached into his pocket when he felt his own mobile vibrate. Pulling out the phone, he saw that it was a text from Lestrade. Crossing the room in two very determined strides, John grabbed Sherlock's mobile from its spot on the table. "Didn't bother to read your messages, did you?"

"I'm already on a case."

"Sherlock!" Rose admonished.

"What?" he replied, genuinely confused. "You asked me to take this ridiculous case, so I did. Therefore I am not available to Lestrade."

"There's been another murder, Sherlock," John explained.

"Whitechapel," Sherlock breathed, suddenly more alert. It had been so long since the last victim was found - he had almost given up hope. Without warning, he jumped up and snatched his mobile back from John, scrolling through his messages as he reached for his coat.

"Sherlock," Rose trilled. "Forgetting something?" She smiled innocently, her tongue peeking from between her teeth, as she watched her husband narrow his eyes and scrutinize her. It took a moment, but she could tell when the answer finally clicked into place for him.

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock dropped his arm and stalked toward their bedroom. Both Rose and John stifled their laughter as he muttered something under his breath, although the only words they might have caught were "Not a child."

"At least he had trousers on this time," John smirked causing Rose to laugh outright. Noting the puzzled looks coming from both the Doctor and River, he shook his head. "We once had a case that took us to Buckingham Palace. He arrived in only a bedsheet."

"Still sorry I missed that one," Rose grinned.

"Well, Mycroft was less than pleased, that's for sure."

"My dear brother is usually less than pleased," Sherlock answered, re-entering the room as he fixed the collar of his shirt. "But I did manage to walk out with an ashtray, as requested. Which you conveniently left off the blog, as I recall. Now, are you coming?"

The Doctor, for his part, had remained silent since his defence of Jackie's taking the change from the table. Just because he didn't speak though, didn't mean that his mind wasn't working in overtime. Now that it seemed Sherlock and John were leaving to consult with Lestrade (_Lestrade!_) on a murder, he found himself torn. While he didn't want to leave Rose, he wasn't sure that staying with her alone was such a good idea. And Sherlock had mentioned Whitechapel… the name was familiar, and it took only a moment to realize why. Whitechapel. The part of London made famous, at least in his universe, by the serial killer known as Jack the Ripper.

"Could I come?" the Doctor asked, his eyes alight with excitement.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

Sherlock's head was reeling from the fact that the Doctor had, once again, been foisted upon him. It was frustrating enough that the man (despite everything, he refused to use the term alien) had appeared in this world requesting help. But for Rose to insist that Sherlock allow him to accompany John and himself to a crime scene was nothing short of negligent. So instead, he did what he did best. Ignored everyone around him and focused on the task at hand.

"You travelled with Rose?" Lestrade asked, trying to wrap his head around the strange man that had accompanied Sherlock and John to the crime scene. Not that he didn't understand her appeal, but this 'Doctor' couldn't be more than 30, and he had known Rose for nearly twenty years now himself. There was no way she would have travelled with a kid.

"Well, technically she travelled with me, but yes. It's all the same," the Doctor rambled. "Two years, give or take? But that was a very long time ago."

"Yeah, I would say so…"

Sherlock did his best to block out the drivel that was passing between the Doctor and Lestrade. He and Rose had never informed Lestrade of her true past and her origins in a parallel world, so hopefully the Doctor wouldn't say anything too strange. It still surprised him that Mycroft knew, but after all these years he had come to understand that Mycroft was a necessary evil and Rose had accepted it upon her arrival. The same could be said of Mary, while John and Abigail simply knew because she considered them family.

He couldn't help but smile at that thought - they were all her family, Mycroft included. Somehow she made them whole. And he'd be damned before he let the Doctor ruin that.

"Dammit," Sherlock cursed under his breath, stepping up and away from the corpse that was splayed on the floor.

"What?" Lestrade asked. "Did we miss something?"

"Of course you did. It's not right, not the serial killer," the consulting detective sighed.

John rolled his eyes. Even after all of these years, he still couldn't fully understand what went through his best friend's mind at times. "You always say that like its a bad thing, not being a serial killer. A copycat is just as-" He cut himself off at the unfamiliar look of near despair on Sherlock's face. "What?"

"Look at the body, the markings," he quietly instructed. "She was pregnant, and now isn't. It's been staged to cover the... procedure." Without another word, Sherlock walked outside. Normally he was able to keep a cool head, separate his emotions from his work. Every once in a while though, something made it through his carefully constructed armour.

"It changes you," an unwelcome voice said. "Being a father, losing a child. No matter how much time passes... And then history is always doomed to repeat itself in some way."

"But you pulled that trigger yourself, Doctor," Sherlock hissed.

"And you didn't. But you still wonder if you could have prevented it, saved them. It takes time, but you recover. You make each other better. Such a human thing to do," he paused, smiling sadly. "My companions... My friends, Amelia and Rory. They had their baby taken from them because of me. In the end we got her back, but it wasn't the same. Their daughter was grown, her whole life a paradox."

"And what did you do, Doctor? How did you save them?"

"I didn't. But I married her to save them all. To save the universe," he answered, his tone almost impossible to read, even for Sherlock.

"River Song. Does she know?"

Of course the Doctor knew that Sherlock was clever. Perceptive. A genius. In all of the stories he had read, and in the little time that he had spent with the man himself, it took little more than a sidelong glance for him to know everything about a person. For some reason though, the Doctor had hoped that he would be different, harder to read. But then again, under "normal" circumstances he wouldn't have factored Rose Tyler into the equation.

"Yes, and no."

"And her parents?"

The Doctor sighed. "They're still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that the baby they lost is the woman they've known for almost as long as they've travelled with me. Time travel is a very complicated beast."

"That's not what I meant." Eyeing the man carefully, Sherlock allowed his curiosity to get the better of him. "How long has it been since you left her on that beach?"

"Does it matter?" he asked, unable to meet the detective's eyes as the silence between the two men stretched into what felt like oblivion although it was barely more than a few seconds. Wringing his hands as he often did when nervous or uncomfortable, the Doctor decided it was in his best interest to be honest. After all, Rose obviously trusted this man so why shouldn't he? "It does matter, I know. It's been just over 300 years for me, and it still matters very much."

"You regret it." It wasn't a question, and the Doctor understood that. Sherlock, however, was still confused. There was still something missing. "The way you looked at her... But she didn't recognize you when you arrived." And then it hit him. Everything that Rose had told him about the Doctor, everything that hadn't yet been said by the man himself, suddenly clicked into place. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper but he knew he held the Doctor's complete attention. "You changed your face again. You travel with new... companions, with your wife. And yet you still pine for what you left, what you discarded that day. What right do you have?"

He glared at the Doctor, watching as the man opened and closed his mouth repeatedly although no sound escaped his lips. "Right," Sherlock clipped. "Coward. Well, you shan't be stuck here much longer. I'm sure that my wife has nearly resolved your... issue, and then you and yours can be on your way again. Without further damage to my family."

"I wouldn't-"

"Don't even pretend that the thought didn't cross your mind the moment you heard her voice again, Doctor. Just know this: I will not lose my daughter, and I will most certainly not lose my wife, to the likes of you."

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**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. Come on then, make me smile?**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: All of you really are the best. I'm so glad that everyone seems to have enjoyed the last chapter, with that extra glimpse into Sherlock & Rose's world, as well as the interactions with the Doctor. **

**Several of you had asked about River though, and that brings us here... This chapter would have completely stalled out if not for TheWheelWeaves. In fact, much of the River dialogue is really thanks to her. xoxoxo**

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**Chapter 10**

It wasn't long after the Doctor left with Sherlock and John that Rose found herself sitting in the back seat of a taxi with a certain Dr. River Song heading toward St. James Aquatica. While she harboured no ill will toward the woman, she didn't appreciate the feeling of distrust and suspicion that radiated from her.

"What?" Rose asked, somewhat annoyed at being watched like a hawk.

"Who _are _you?"

"Rose Tyler-Holmes, and you?"

"Dr. River Song, professor of archaeology at Luna University, sometime companion and wife of the Doctor, last of the Time Lords. Now tell me who you actually are."

Rose sighed. "I just did. If you won't listen, I don't care to talk, thank you." Turning back to the window, Rose's mind raced. The Doctor was married. Actually, properly, married. With a wife. And domestics. Biting the inside of her cheek, Rose turned back to River. "I'm Rose, just Rose. No 'Doctor' or 'Ph.D.,' Just Rose Tyler, who married Sherlock Holmes and occasionally saves London or the world, whichever is in danger at the time, in between ballet recitals and football games and pub nights. Now why don't you ask me what you really want to know, Dr. Song."

River looked carefully at the blonde woman, almost appraising her. "Sherlock Holmes? Really? You don't seem the sort to have read the books."

"Maybe not, but I was the sort to appreciate Robert Downey, Jr. and Jude Law," Rose replied and allowed another uncomfortable silence to settle between the two of them.

"He's never mentioned you, you know," River stated, deciding to skip ahead to the jugular.

Rose shrugged indifferently. "People change," she replied, handing some bills to the driver as they arrived. "He was a different man when he knew me." Before River could reply, she exited the taxi and walked toward the shop that was their destination. If this was the type of person that the Doctor was interested in now, the less time that she spent in their company, the better.

The shop clerk looked up from the counter as the door chimed, announcing a customer. "Good afternoon," he greeted the two women.

"Hello," Rose replied, pasting a warm smile on her own face.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, we're looking-" River began, surprised to be cut-off by Rose.

"Actually, I have a favour to ask," Rose interrupted, adopting a pleading tone. "My brother-in-law was in here yesterday, tall bloke with freckles, yeah?" She paused, encouraged when the clerk nodded. "Well, he returned a fish. I think he thought it was sick or something but the problem is that my son was really attached to it. So, of course, he's been beside himself. I hate to ask, but is there any chance that I could have it back? I'll pay, of course…"

River stared at Rose, her mouth agape at the story the other woman so quickly invented. It wasn't as though she never had to think on her feet - quite the opposite in fact - but this _domestic _approach seemed to actually be working. She could only watch in frustrated awe as the clerk nodded sympathetically to the fictional account that he had been given before leading Rose to a row of tanks on the other end of the store.

"This should be the one," he said, capturing the fish with a small net and placing it into a plastic bag. "We separated a couple of them out, just in case there was something wrong, but he seems fine."

"She," Rose corrected absently. "This silly fish is like royalty to my little one." Turning to River, she once again forced a smile. "Looks to be the right one, yeah?"

"Yes, I do believe so, sweetie."

"Excellent. £3.50, right?"

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. I know it was a short one, but make my day?**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: And now we reach the chapter/plot that actually made me stop and think about writing this story. And although it has nothing whatsoever to do with Sherlock or Rose in its original incarnation, it will hopefully answer a few questions that have come up about other (mentioned) characters.**

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**Chapter 11**

The sound of a phone ringing caused Amy to groan. "Doctor?" she yelled, not entirely surprised by the silence that answered her. "Rory?" She knew that he was there, but he didn't answer either. Deciding that Rory probably found some other form of entertainment in the TARDIS while she slept, Amy forced herself out of bed, determined to make the phone stop ringing.

When she finally arrived in the console room, Amy realized that the Doctor must have left the ship for some reason. It wasn't often that he left her and Rory alone on board, but given that she had been sick, she was hardly surprised. He had a tendency to get a bit stir crazy, after all.

Finding the phone, she begrudgingly answered. "Hello?" Of course, it would be someone calling for the Doctor. "He's- he's not here. Who's speaking? The Duke of what? Which one? No, not which York. What year is this-"

"I think that's probably for me!" the Doctor yelled, throwing open the TARDIS doors and running inside, a top hat on his head and a fish bowl in his hand. "Hello? Ah! Yes. Everything's fine, don't worry." Amy watched as he paced around her, trying not to drop the fish bowl he had shoved into her hand when he grabbed the phone. "Well, exactly. Why should you be worrying? Who even mentioned worrying? She's fine! Your mum is fine," he insisted, suddenly facing Amy. "Don't answer this phone. _I_ answer this phone."

"Where have you been?"

"Party. Just a party." He put the phone back to his ear, as Amy tried to make sense of what he was saying. "Yes, your mum is here actually, but she can't come to the phone at the moment. She's…" he stared at the goldfish in the bowl that Amy was still holding. "Busy. Well, you know, the Commonwealth." Lowering the phone yet again, he eyed the fish. "It's your other son. He wants to talk to you, but we can't let him see you like this or hear you, not that he could hear you, you're a fish…" The phone started to ring again, bring the Doctor's attention back to the object in his hand. "Sorry, I've got another call-

"Hello! Well, there's not a bit of use yelling, I've got him trapped in my TARDIS! And until they've turned Her Majesty here back into a human being, he is staying put. Don't worry, he is perfectly safe. For now. But don't think I don't know what you did to that vortex manipulator. Managed to manipulate a bit more than that, didn't you?" He paused as if listening to a response, purposely avoiding Amy's gaze. "Oh, no. Him you can have. That? No."

This was all a bit much, for Amy. While she knew what the Doctor's life was like, this all seemed a bit excessive, even for him. "What is going on?" she demanded.

"Now? I was at a party. Well, gala," he replied. "There was a slight incident earlier-"

"What? So you sneak out at night to parties? Hang on, you're dressed up… You never dress up. Was River at the party?"

The Doctor had been feeling somewhat smug, pleased with himself for being able to pull off the tux, but why did it have to be related back to River? His shoulders slumped as he huffed. "Why would she be there?"

"Don't. Just don't lie to me, Doctor. You're rubbish at it."

"Look I do not _sneak out_ at night to parties with your… with River Song!"

"Hmm," Amy shrugged. "How is she?"

"Fine," the Doctor replied before he could catch himself.

"See? Rubbish!"

"Sorry, but I am in the middle of a thing," he insisted, taking the fish back from Amy and running for the door.

"Doctor!" Amy called, desperately needing to talk to him. It had been long enough, and she needed to know once and for all if he could help her. After everything that they had been through in 1969, Demon's Run, and Utah she needed her Raggedy Man. "Doctor, I… I need to talk to you. There is a reason that I couldn't sleep just now-"

"Rory!" the Doctor yelled, his eyes wide with terror.

"What are you doing?"

"You've got the serious face on. I always shout for Rory when you've got the serious face. _Rory_! She's having an emotion!"

They both watched as Rory entered the console room, towelling his hair dry. Apparently he'd been swimming. "What's wrong, Amy?"

"Why are you calling him?" Amy hissed at the Doctor.

The Doctor shrugged. "It's his turn," he answered, turning back for the door as Amy eyes widened in disbelief.

"You... you two have turns?"

Before Rory could respond though, the Doctor shouted in frustration at the door. "No! It's the wrong fish… She gave me the wrong fish." He opened the TARDIS door a crack and yelled out to River. "River! Tell them we've got the wrong fish!" Turning back to Amy and Rory, he forced what he hoped was an apologetic expression on his face. "Look. Sorry, you two. I've made a mistake. I've got about 3 hours to save the Commonwealth."

"What happened in 3 hours?" Rory asked.

"The pet shops close," the Doctor said, hurrying out of the TARDIS and leaving them behind.

Rory shook his head, still staring at the spot by the doors that the Doctor had just vacated. "Are you feeling better?" he asked his wife.

"I guess so. Just wish I knew what that was all about…"

"We'll find out tomorrow. You're still feeling a bit warm, so back to bed for now."

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. okaythanksbye.**


	12. Chapter 12

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**Chapter 12 **

"I've no idea what she's done to him, but I don't trust her," Rose commented, putting the finishing touches on her makeup for the evening. "And apparently neither does he."

Sherlock looked up from the drawer he had been rummaging through in search of his cufflinks only to find Rose's back to him as she slipped into her evening gown. "What makes you say that?" After his earlier conversation with the Doctor, he knew it to be true. However, he didn't expect that Rose would pick up on it given that she hadn't spent any time with the Doctor outside of his presence.

Rose turned to face her husband. Her eyes softened as she looked at him, taking in everything from the bemused look on his face to the way his crisp white shirt was perfectly tucked into his trousers while the braces hung limply at his sides. "I love you."

"And I you," he replied, somewhat uncertain about what brought on the sudden confession. "But that doesn't explain why-"

"I know," she sighed. "It's just… Talking to her today, she was intentionally trying to wind me up. Baiting me so that I'd get angry and tell her what she wanted to know. That made it painfully obvious that the Doctor hadn't confided in her about… things." Rose shook her head slightly and turned back to the mirror. Sherlock knew her story, all of her secrets. If she was honest with herself, he also knew a few of the Doctor's.

Given their current situation, that might not have been the wisest move on her part, but hindsight is 20/20. The fact of the matter was that she had needed someone to talk to, someone to confide in, and Sherlock was that person. For better or worse, he was her other half. "Do me up?" she asked, pulling her hair aside so that he could more easily access the zipper of her dress.

With a wry smile on his face, Sherlock slowly raised the zipper, secretly pleased with himself for causing her to shiver as his fingers lightly trailed up her spine before placing a kiss at the nape of her neck. "You look beautiful," he whispered.

Turning to look up at him, she grinned. "You clean up rather nicely yourself, Mr. Holmes." Gently brushing an errant curl back into place, she nodded toward his jacket. "Best not get too distracted - the car will be here in a minute, and I want to see my daughter before she goes on stage."

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

Jackie sat in front of the mirror in the shared dressing room with her eyes closed and her hands steepled under her chin. It was a ritual that she had before going on stage, a habit she had picked up from her father in order to clear her mind. As always, she needed to ignore the excited chatter from the other dancers, shut off the outside world, and give herself over to the music entirely. Especially tonight. Tonight was her chance to prove to the director of the Royal Ballet that she deserved one of the coveted spots in his company.

The scent of fresh flowers filled her nose, their perfume providing a very zen-like effect on her. She had read the cards on the bouquets earlier, from her grandparents, her Uncle Mike, John and Mary, other friends and family, and even the Doctor and River. There was also a faint trace of sugar in the air, part of a tradition that began with her first dance recital: a bouquet of lollies, this time of the black & white twist variety, adorned with a black satin ribbon and what appeared to be diamond stud earrings, courtesy of her parents.

She was brought out of her reverie by a perfunctory knock at the dressing room door. "Three minutes, ladies!"

Her eyes snapped open and she took a final deep breath. "Showtime," she exhaled, suddenly drawn into the flurry of activity that was buzzing around her.

There was a certain level of anxiety in the opera hall as well as Rose followed Sherlock to their customary box for the performance. She was grateful that Mycroft had the foresight to also secure the adjoining box for their party, although sadly with the two late additions it still wouldn't be enough seats. Instead, two last minute tickets were purchased, leaving John and Mary on their own while Abigail joined Mycroft and his parents allowing the Doctor and River to sit with them.

"You're sure you don't mind?" Rose asked Mary again.

"It's fine," Mary assured her. "Just like I said before. We understand. You need to keep an eye on him."

"Don't pretend you're not packing just in case that woman pulls something," Rose quietly replied, her smile belying her tone.

"Well, in our line of work it is always best to be prepared." Mary winked, and linked her arm through John's. "We'll see you later. Good luck!"

Rose grinned at her friend, thankful to have someone like Mary in her life. She had been one of the first people Rose befriended in this world, and it was ultimately thanks in large part to her that Rose met Sherlock. The woman could be quite manipulative when she wanted to be, but never malicious. At least not toward Rose. It had been so hard on her at first, being separated permanently from everyone and everything that she knew, and Mary understood that. She understood what it was like to be cut-off from everyone - albeit in a different way - as well as what it took to create a new life for yourself and fly just under the radar. She also understood why it was so vitally important to befriend certain people in high places - one never knew where those connections could lead.

"May I escort you to your seat, my dear?" Mycroft asked, offering Rose his arm, as the lights in the hall began to dim.

"That would be lovely, Mike, thank you."

Taking her seat next to Sherlock in their box, Rose nervously scanned the crowd around them uncomfortable with the fact that the Doctor and River had yet to arrive. The curtain would be going up in less than two minutes, and they should have been there already.

Noting Rose's apprehension, Sherlock was just about to offer to go searching for the vagabond Doctor when the man in question suddenly appeared. Rolling his eyes as the Doctor fumbled into his seat behind them, Sherlock couldn't stop himself from hissing, "Cutting it rather close, don't you think?"

"There was a slight hiccup," River replied, slipping into the box and taking her seat.

Rose turned, worried about what that could mean. "What's that?"

"Her Majesty is still missing," the Doctor sighed. "Wrong fish."

"We'll figure it out later, yeah?" Rose asked.

"Shiver and Shake," he beamed, eliciting both a small smile from her and a frown from River. "But now, your _daughter_ is about to dance at the Royal Ballet! Rose Tyler. How brilliant is that?"

"Very," Sherlock intoned. "Now shut up. They're starting."

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**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. Maybe yes?**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Happy 4th of July/Independence Day/America's Birthday/ID4/and all that jazz to my fellow Americans! And to those readers not from the US (or simply not celebrating) a very happy Fanfiction Friday to you! **

**As always, much love and appreciation to TheWheelWeaves, not only for her mad beta skillz, but for her help with this chapter. Especially (spoilers) the Doctor & Jackie bit. Now go and check out _Holmes and Tyler are Dead_, and/or the rest of her _This Rose is Extra_ series. You'll thank me later.**

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**Chapter 13**

It had taken a while, but Jackie finally found herself alone in the shared dressing room the five people that mattered most to her. The other dancers had changed and cleared out rather quickly, anxious and excited to move on to the gala portion of the evening. Not her though. She hung back, knowing that her family would be waiting for their moment alone with her.

"You were so beautiful out there," Violet gushed, cupping her granddaughter's face in her hand. "Thank god you got your father's grace… Sorry, Rose."

"Don't apologize to me!" Rose laughed. "I can run, but that's it. And heaven help me in these heels…"

Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. "Don't worry, I've got you," he whispered, smirking at the tongue-in-tooth smile he received in response.

"Grinndy?" Jackie asked, her eyes wide as she bit her lip, turning to the eldest Holmes. Much like her father, for some reason it was always her grandfather's approval that she sought - although she was much less subtle than he was about it.

"Breathtaking, my dear," he assured her, giving her a tight squeeze.

She smiled against him, and nodded slightly, comforted by the fact that he enjoyed the performance. "Do you think it was enough?"

"If it wasn't, you'll be fi-"

"If it wasn't, then I will have _words _with the Director," Mycroft interrupted. "There is no reason that he-"

"Mycroft!" Sherlock admonished, as both his mother, father and Rose also cut across with a "Mike!"

Mycroft scowled at the group, allowing his features to soften when he looked at his niece. All any of them wanted was the best for her, and he wouldn't apologize for the fact that he believed the Royal Ballet Company was where she belonged. He would do what he could to ensure that her dream of dancing for them came true.

"Alright, everyone out," Rose insisted, shooing the family toward the door. "Give our Cinderella a chance to get ready for the ball. And Sherlock? Please make sure that our guests aren't being too big of a nuisance for Mary and John, will you?"

Jackie giggled as her father mumbled something unintelligible at being kicked out of the room, despite following the rest of the family through the door. Once alone, her smile quickly faded and a look of apprehension took its place and she felt like a nervous 5 year-old. "Mum?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"What if I don't make the Company? I know Uncle Mike wants-"

"Ignore him. If you don't make it, then there are plenty of other ballet companies out there. Or maybe you try something else for a while. God knows that's what I tried to do when I was your age. Made a right mess of things too. The point though, my love, is that you just need to do whatever makes you happy. And you know that Dad and I will support you no matter what, yeah?"

Relief washed over Jackie as she processed her mother's words. She knew that her parents would love her no matter what she did, even if she somehow repeated mistakes from her mother's own youthful… indiscretions. Not that she would. Ballet was her world, and she fully intended to keep it that way. She had most definitely inherited her father's love of music (in addition to his grace, as her grandmother pointed out), so between that and her mother's agility, it worked.

"What about the Doctor?" Jackie asked.

"Honestly? I don't know."

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

The Doctor fidgeted slightly in his tuxedo. While it was a relief to no longer fit into the unlucky one, he still typically associated the formal wear with bad things. Hopefully tonight would not prove to be one of them - there was still time to track down the right fish, so perhaps Sherlock could be of use. Of course the detective was slightly distracted now - and rightfully so the Doctor noted, through narrowed eyes - with Rose in his arms.

"How about a dance, Doctor?" River asked, attempting to pull his attention away from Rose. "It's been so long."

"Not now. We need to find the Queen."

"Then why are we still here?"

Not bothering to answer, the Doctor stepped out onto the dance floor, his eyes still locked on Rose. Before he could reach her though, Jackie appeared in his way. "Dance?" she offered.

"Who am I to refuse on your big night?" He smiled down at her, offering his hand and bowing slightly.

She grinned back at him, her mother's tongue-touched grin, and placed one hand in his and the other on his shoulder. "You're not going to step all over me, are you?"

"Jackie Tyler Holmes. No matter what your mum might have told you, I'll have you know I am an excellent dancer," he scoffed, twirling her around and into the crowd.

The two of them danced in silence for a few minutes, the Doctor concentrating on not making a fool of himself for once while Jackie simply lost herself in the music.

"Did you find her?" Jackie asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"What?"

"Her Majesty. I know you were looking for a Queen from your universe."

"Not yet," he sighed. "Afraid that the pet shop may have accidentally sold her to someone before Rose and River got there this morning."

"Pet shop?"

"Yes, apparently-"

"In Pall Mall?" Jackie clarified, coming to a sudden halt as she cocked her head to the side.

"I believe so, why?"

"You were looking for a fish from St. James Aquatica?"

The Doctor took a step back from her, a curious expression on his face. "What do you know?"

"I think I may have accidentally purchased your Queen, Doctor. I didn't realize - I saw the receipt on the table, and it gave me an idea. So when I left this morning, we stopped. I bought the fish as a gift for Uncle Mike - she just looked so sad, all by herself in the tank. And I thought that he might like-"

Exactly _what _she thought Uncle Mike may have liked at that moment was anyone's guess. Rather than letting her finish the story, the Doctor's face lit up with excitement and he took her face in his hands, kissing her full on the lips. Of course, in his glee at solving the mystery, he barely registered that Jackie was shoving him backwards and away from her until he felt a hand grab his collar and a powerful fist collide with his cheekbone.

And then all hell broke loose.

The room fell instantly silent in a way that would have been comical, if it wasn't so serious. Every eye turned to watch as the Doctor staggered backwards in a daze, trying to figure out what had happened while Sherlock brought his fist up in preparation for another blow.

"Doctor!" River and Rose both shouted at once, one full of concern and the other horror, as fist once again met face.

Siger, Rose, and John all rushed over to separate the two men as Mycroft hurried to Jackie's side.

"Jacqueline, are you alright?" Mycroft asked, not even registering the gaggle of other people that had also rushed to her side.

"Fine, just-" she stopped mid-sentence, looking over at the scene before her: the murderous look on her father's face as her grandfather tried to talk him down, her mother and John keeping the Doctor away - just out of Sherlock's reach - and Mary physically holding River back, keeping her from joining the fray.

"Let. Me. Go," River hissed, attempting to remove herself from the vice-like grasp of the smaller woman.

"Not a chance," Mary retorted, her eyes constantly scanning the room to ensure that there wasn't any further danger. "He got what was coming."

"For god's sake! He didn't mean anything by it, it's what he does. She must have realized something that he didn't."

Mary shook her head, and even River could read the pity with which she looked at her. "You think that was all for Jackie?"

River froze in place, glaring at Mary. If there was one thing that she couldn't stand, it was not knowing the full story about something, especially where the Doctor - _her_ Doctor - was concerned. For what felt like the hundredth time in 48 hours, she found herself once again asking the same question. "Who is she? And don't you dare just say a former companion…"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Mary said, releasing River from her grasp and looking her right in the eyes. "Rose Tyler is the Big, Bad Wolf." And with those words, Mary walked toward her husband and Rose, leaving River to process what she had just learned.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. Come on, it is a(n American) holiday, after all!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Seriously folks. Lots going on in this one. And most of it thanks to the help of TheWheelWeaves. **

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**Chapter 14**

River remained frozen in place, Mary's words ringing in her ears: _the Big, Bad Wolf. _River knew those words: Bad Wolf. She recognized the name as a corporation from the year 200,000, but also as something that cropped up in her studies when she was researching the Doctor. There was never a clear explanation of what exactly the words meant though - how could they be tied to a human when they seemed to exist across all of time and space?

Blinking herself out of the temporary trance, River allowed herself one final moment of reflection. She had known that there was more to Rose Tyler Holmes than met the eye, but now was not the time to figure out what exactly that was. Instead, she needed to get out of there; watching the Doctor fawn over both Rose and her daughter, she found the room suddenly stifling and was desperate for air. And so - doing what anyone travelling with the Doctor did best - she ran.

~~~0~~~0~~~0~~~

It took a few minutes, but once the music resumed, the spectators gradually began to thin and the gala festivities continued as normal - save for those that were directly involved in the altercation. With Mary's help, Rose was able to usher the family and the Doctor to the back of the room, safely away from any curious minds.

While she understood Sherlock's compulsion to attack the Doctor for what he had done to Jackie, she believed that there was no malice intended. That much was clear from the Doctor's stuttering apology of a reaction. What she needed to do now was focus everyone's attention on _why_ the Doctor had done what he'd done. Sherlock's motivation could be dealt with later.

Before Rose could begin her questioning though, Jackie spoke up, annoyed and embarrassed by all of the fuss. "What the hell were you thinking?" she hissed. "Tonight is about celebrating and raising money for the ballet. Not to mention _my_ future…"

"Jackie, nobody blames you-"

"I certainly hope not! All I did was try to help, and instead you," she spat, rounding on the Doctor, "you _attack _me with that-" she shuddered, "disgusting, alien mouth that's been god knows where. Ugh! Don't think I don't know what you're like. Mum's told me how gross you were, always licking things-"

"I'm truly sorr-" the Doctor attempted once again to apologize, but stopping mid-way through at the Jackie Tyler-esque look on the girl's face.

"Jackie, _enough_," Rose interrupted. "Let's not make more of a scene here."

"Why not?" Jackie practically shouted, sounding very much like the teenager that she was. "Everyone is going to remember what happened, so now I guess I get to be _that _girl. The one who can't be trusted to not have drama surrounding her in the form of a presumptuous alien or an overprotective father." And with those final words, she stalked off toward her friends on the dance floor.

Sherlock stood silently, his eyes focused on the spot that his daughter had vacated before glaring at the Doctor. He barely registered that thinking the situation defused, the family had now begun to separate as well. His parents, Mycroft, and Abigail had ventured off after Jacqueline, resuming their various social activities while Rose, John and Mary were left to keep him and the Doctor separated.

It struck him as unfair that he should be considered even partially at fault for the current situation, when he was only trying to protect his daughter from the lecherous man not 3 feet away from him. The same man who he knew shouldn't be trusted, who had repeatedly shattered Rose's heart into countless pieces, and yet always drew her back in like a moth to a flame.

He felt his fingers almost involuntarily curl back into a fist, the anger and hatred beginning to resurface. The slight movement did not go unnoticed though. Before he was able to lift his arm and take a step forward, he felt an unwelcome hand - with a surprisingly firm grip - on his shoulder. Of course.

"Not worth it," John quietly said. "Let's get some air."

_Thank you_, Rose mouthed to John as he led Sherlock from the room. One down, one to go…

The Doctor cleared his throat, uncomfortable with how things were playing out around him. "It was my fault," he said apologetically. "I've ruined your daughter's big night, and her… her father shouldn't have to leave because of me. I can just-"

"What were you thinking, Doctor?" Rose asked.

He turned to face Rose, feeling a slight flush rise in his cheeks as he took in the disappointed look on her face. He hated seeing that look, always had. If there was anything that he never meant to do, it was let her down. "I really didn't mean anything by it, honestly," he whispered, looking away, ashamed. "She had just told me that she might know where Her Majesty is. I guess I responded with a bit more… gusto than necessary."

A slow smile crept across Rose's face. "Do you mean to say, Doctor, that my Jackie solved a mystery that both you, a 900 year old Time Lord, and her father, the renowned genius and consulting detective, couldn't?"

The Doctor raised his head, surprised by the playful smile on her face and the sparkle in her eye. "1200, and looking good, I think. But I do suppose it's once again down to Jackie Tyler to save the day." Chancing a smile of his own, he held a hand out to Rose. "Fancy a run, Rose Tyler?"

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

Nothing about River's life was ever simple. In that moment, she only wanted one thing as she fled the Royal Opera House: to see a friendly face. Once she was alone on the streets of London, she pulled out her vortex manipulator and entered in the usual coordinates for the TARDIS. Unfortunately though, despite repeatedly aiming for the ship, she instead found herself deposited back at the opera house entrance.

Letting out a low growl of frustration, she slumped back against the exterior of the building. Right now she could only think about how much she hated the 21st century, especially this version of it. Just as she was contemplating how best to get back to Baker Street given a distinct lack of local currency, psychic paper, or the Doctor's sonic, she saw Sherlock burst through the doors and call for a taxi. Deciding that this might be her best shot to get to where she needed to go, River trailed after him.

"Well, that's perfect," Sherlock sneered as River slipped into the taxi behind him.

"I think so as well, Mr. Holmes," she replied brightly.

Once again, Sherlock found himself in the frustrating situation of having River Song's company thrust upon him in a confined space. At least this time she did not have the Doctor by her side . If he had been there as well, there is no telling what may have happened. As it was, Sherlock still found himself very nearly wanting to attack the woman beside him - not that she was at fault for the Doctor's behaviour, but she certainly had a part to play in everything that had transpired over the last few days. He blinked and mentally shook himself, suddenly realizing that River had been chattering on and in fact asked him a question.

"Sherlock? Did you hear me? How about a late dinner?"

"Dinner?" he repeated, blankly.

"Yes," River nodded, the corner of her mouth twitching upward into a small smile. "Of course things being what they are," she continued, resting a hand on Sherlock's thigh. "Perhaps there is something else that you might prefer?"

Sherlock looked down at the hand on his leg with narrowed eyes before looking up at its owner. With near surgical precision, Sherlock placed his hand on top of River's, never breaking eye-contact with her. He heard her sharp intake of breath, noted the way her eyes widened at his touch as he lifted his palm and gently stroked his fingers along the back of her hand. He watched as she licked her lips in anticipation, his fingertips coming to rest on her wrist.

It was there that he struck, grasping her wrist with such pressure that she couldn't help but cry out from the sudden pain. "You would do well, Dr. Song, to not judge the relationships of others by the insecurities faced in your own," Sherlock seethed before releasing his hold on River and exiting the taxi.

"What is it about Rose Tyler that has you all wrapped around her finger?" River demanded, following him along the sidewalk. "She's pretty enough, but she's not special - said it herself 'just Rose Tyler.' Nothing to make the last of the Time Lords or the legendary Sherlock Holmes act like besotted schoolboys."

"Rose has never been 'just' anything, no matter what she says."

"So what is she? What makes her so special?"

Sherlock paused, his hand on the door of 221b, and turned to face River. "She makes us better. Rose Tyler can take a broken man, and fix him. Remind a tired soldier that there are things worth living for, worth dying for. She is my wife, the mother of my child, and while I know that she arrived here - on this world - by chance, some part of me is forced to believe that there were stronger forces at play. Because that is what makes Rose Tyler special. When you aren't able to believe in anything else, you believe in her."

"You talk as if she is a deity, a being to be worshipped. Not the human that she is."

"It is her humanity that draws everyone to her, your Time Lord included." Sherlock tilted his head to the side, searching River for some sign of understanding. "You really don't have any idea, do you?"

"About what? _Bad Wolf_?" River scoffed, attempting to hide the fact that she didn't know what exactly he was getting at by offering dangling a carrot of information instead.

Sherlock shook his head, tutting as he did so. "Do you even know what those words mean?"

"I suppose you do?"

"_My_ wife and I have no secrets. Somehow I doubt that the same can be said for you and your husband . Rose Tyler didn't even exist for you until two days ago, and she never would have if you hadn't crossed the Void."

"You know about the Void-"

"Of course I do!" Sherlock roared. "Haven't you heard a word that I've said? But then, truth be told, Rose and I have no secrets save one. There is one thing that she hasn't told me. One thing that I never asked."

River glared at Sherlock. "And what, Mr. Holmes, would that be?"

"The last thing she ever heard the Doctor say to her. His name."

Sherlock watched in vindictive pleasure as his words struck, the blow carefully aimed at the proverbial jugular of his opponent. He may have left out a few key details, but that was neither here nor there. Instead, he was rewarded with this patience as he watched River blanche, staggering backward toward the TARDIS that was parked on the corner.

"No, that's- that's not possible," she stammered. "He- he wouldn't. He _couldn't_."

Sherlock stood in silence as she struggled with the door of the ship that refused to open for her. Staring at the now broken woman before him, Sherlock removed an old Yale key from his pocket and unlocked the TARDIS door. "Home again, Dr. Song, safe and sound. I'll have Rose return this tomorrow - she really has no further need for it. Have a pleasant evening."

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

The Doctor wasn't sure what to make of the fact that Rose had declined his offer to rescue Her Majesty the fish and instead opted to go on her own. Well, not on her own, but certainly without him. He slowly made his way back to the TARDIS through the familiar-and-yet-not streets of this London, managing to kick every stray pebble that had the misfortune to cross this path.

He knew that he was sulking. He was 1200 years old and sulking like a child. No wonder she didn't want him to accompany her to Mycroft's home. Giving an empty water bottle a hard kick, he decided to focus his attention on more pressing matters: Rose had a life here, on this world, and a seemingly brilliant one at that. She lived her life as he had always intended for her, on the slow path, and appeared to make the most of it. However there was something missing, something that he needed to know.

When the Doctor left her on Pete's World all those years ago, he never intended for her to be alone. She was meant to be surrounded by her family, her friends. By people that she loved. By a specific person that she loved and that loved her. What could have happened to change that?

Although it pained him, the Doctor found that he was forced to admit that she did seem to have all of these things now, albeit not as he had intended. She was surrounded by friends and had a family of her own - complete with a child no less! Rose Tyler was a mum. Simply the thought of that was enough to bring a wistful smile to his face. Of course the father of that child was not him, not that it could have been. But it should have been _him_. Not Sherlock Holmes. And now he was back to the start.

Unsure of exactly how it happened, the Doctor found that he had finally arrived back at the TARDIS. He turned to look at the door of 221b Baker Street, debating internally whether or not he should go there instead. Before he could take a step toward the infamous door though, a car pulled up and a laughing Jackie stepped out. Not wishing to once again darken her jovial mood, he stepped back into TARDIS's shadow as she unlocked the door and disappeared inside.

The Doctor rested his head against the side of his beloved ship and closed his eyes, momentarily lost in the memories that the sound of her laugh - so like her mother's - conjured. Images of a younger Rose flashed through his mind: a Rose in a Victorian gown, hoodies and jeans, leather jacket and trainers. Always a tongue-touched smile, always that laugh, always hand-in-hand. How could he have let it all go so wrong?

With a heavy sigh, the Doctor opened his eyes. Deeming the coast clear, he made his way into the TARDIS longing for the peace that only his ship could provide. He should have known better than to actually expect it though.

The moment that the Doctor crossed the threshold he was met with a resounding _crack_ across the face, just above his newly bruised jaw, as River slapped him with all the strength that she could muster.

"You bastard," she spat.

"Oi!" he yelled, cupping his face and attempting to pop his jaw back into place. "What was that for?"

River gaped at him, reeling from his attempt at innocence. "Not this time," she replied. "Don't you dare try that on me. I asked again and again, and you said _nothing_."

The Doctor stared at her, trying to figure out exactly what she was referring to. He felt the gentle nudge of the TARDIS in his mind, and once again an image of Rose Tyler flashed before him. Of course. "River, I -"

"Once more, Doctor. One last try. Who. Is. She."

"I told you. Rose was a companion, she travelled with me for nearly two years before she was locked away on a parallel world."

River looked at him, the disbelief obvious on her face. "You're lying! Why are you still lying to me?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Deny it. Tell me that he was wrong, that I'm wrong."

"He? What do you mean 'he?' He who?" The Doctor stared at River through narrowed eyes, trying to glean some form of an answer from her carefully constructed blank expression. "Sherlock," he whispered, unable to explain the betrayal that he suddenly felt.

"Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

River shook her head in disgust. "Admit it. Tell me. Tell me that I wasn't the first. Tell me that if you could, you would run into the arms of this human woman and never look back. Tell me that you-"

"That I never expected to see her again?" the Doctor offered. "That I regret what I did? That I miss her? That I repeatedly let her down? That I gave my life for hers and would do so again if necessary?"

"No, none of that. Admit that you still love her in a way that you could never love me. Admit that you married her for that reason, not out of obligation."

The Doctor collapsed onto the jump seat, his face in his hands. "Yes," he breathed. "I loved her. _Love_ her. But marriage..."

"Don't you dare. Not now."

"You have to understand," he began, pleading. "We never- _I_ never, but she knew. She always knew that I did." He looked up to face River, his vision clouded by unshed tears. "That's why I left. So that he could give her what she deserved, a proper life. A real future, a human one."

"He died," a quiet voice said.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. Come on, it is even a long chapter! :)**


	15. Chapter 15

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

**Chapter 15**

Rose hadn't meant to eavesdrop on their conversation, and certainly not with Sherlock in tow. All that she had wanted to do was give the fish to either the Doctor or River and then go to bed. It had been a long day followed by an exhausting evening. Now, however, it appeared that there was still a long road ahead of her.

When Mary offered to accompany Rose to Mycroft's house, she was grateful. While she didn't want to go with the Doctor, she still didn't feel that being alone was a good idea. Accepting the company of her oldest friend (in this universe) was only natural. She knew that Mary would listen to her and actually hear what she was saying. She knew that if she vented her frustrations about the "stupid alien git" making a complete mess of things, as per usual, and her well-meaning but trigger-happy husband making them worse, that Mary wouldn't judge her.

It amazed Rose to think that she had managed to somehow romanticize the Doctor after so many years without him. Yes, she well remembered that he was a frustrating, insufferable twat at times, but for the most part she simply chose to focus on the good. The lives they saved, the laughs they shared, the dangers they outran. Family celebrations and reunions, friends across the galaxy, facing everything hand-in-hand. Those were the bedtime stories that she told her daughter and niece.

With the royal fish safe in her possession and Mary dropped safely at home, Rose sat back in the town car as the driver made his way to Baker Street, her thoughts straying into potentially dangerous territory. She wanted to scream and yell at the Doctor for everything that he had done in the past, to slap him hard enough that he would _wish_ that it had been her mother instead. The fact of the matter though is that she knew that she wouldn't. She had forgiven him long ago.

When knocking on the TARDIS door yielded no result, she decided to use her TARDIS key for the first time in nearly two decades to pop inside drop off the fish, and then go home. Of course she should have known that Sherlock would have stolen the key from her bag. It wasn't something that she usually carried with her, not anymore, so she hadn't realized that it was gone until too late.

Fortunately, Sherlock was perceptive enough to know not to comment when Rose entered the sitting room and demanded the key. Instead, he simply nodded and held the door open for her with one hand while offering the key with the other.

Their walk to the TARDIS was silent, and Sherlock watched with almost a detached curiosity as Rose approached the ship. Her observed the reverence with which she touched the TARDIS door, the slight smile as she slid the key into the lock, and the way she closed her eyes and sighed contentedly as the lock clicked and the door pushed open.

Her eyes opened at the sound of the voices from inside though. It seemed that the Doctor and River were having an argument - about her, of all things. She heard River accuse the Doctor of loving her and marrying her, and his assent at the first. She gasped at his words, words that she had never heard him say. And then she heard the defeat in his voice, the sheer heartbreak at what he had done, leaving her on Pete's World with the metacrisis Doctor. That's when she realized that he had no idea what had happened. She hadn't told him, hadn't had the chance yet.

"_He died,"_ she quietly said, commanding their attention with the two simple words.

"Who died?" River asked as the Doctor whispered "When?"

Rose sighed and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. She turned to look at Sherlock who nodded in response, squeezing her hand. He would support her through this, give her his strength.

"Not long after you left."

River glared among the three others, not used to being the one left out of the conversation. It was obvious that there was something they all knew but she didn't, and that did not sit well for her. "Who are you talking about?"

It was the Doctor's turn to sigh. He stood and walked toward Rose and Sherlock, both still hovering by the door. "Not here," he said. "The library?"

Rose nodded and took a tentative step forward. The lights in the TARDIS glowed brighter for a moment, the ship welcoming the presence of a long lost companion. "I missed you too, old girl," she whispered, stroking the centre console as she walked further into the room. "You've redecorated."

"A few times, since… Well, yes. What do you think?"

"She's beautiful, but I'll always miss the coral." The lights dimmed for a moment, and the struts in the console room changed. They once again resembled the coral that had long since been gone, but that Rose remembered from her time travelling with them. Rose let out a muted giggle, sending a silent thanks to the ship that glowed in pride in return.

"She missed you," the Doctor said.

"How is that possible?" Sherlock asked, speaking for the first time.

"I told you." Rose smiled at her husband. "The TARDIS is sentient. Telepathic even."

"But that doesn't make sense."

"Of course it does. Come on," she said, taking his hand and following the Doctor up one of the many ramps and deeper into the ship.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

Sherlock marvelled inwardly at the impossibility of the TARDIS. He knew that it was a dimension of its own, _bigger on the inside_, as Rose had described it. Hearing the words and actually experiencing it for himself though were two entirely different things. Never had he imagined that he would face the ship in the flesh though, and be forced to accept it as fact.

The hallway was seemingly endless, a labyrinth of countless twists and turns, doors and passages. Just as the Doctor disappeared around another bend ahead of them, Sherlock felt Rose come to a sudden stop. He turned to ask if she was alright when he saw her lift a tentative hand and caress the simple wooden door in front of her.

"What is it?" he asked.

"My room," she whispered. Rose looked up at the ceiling and smiled. "You saved it." There was a gentle hum and the lights once again dimmed, responding to her words and touch. "Later, yes." She sighed again before turning away from the door and leading Sherlock after the Doctor, neither noticing the curious looks they were receiving from two strangers peering from the corridor they had just passed.

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

River had preceded the Doctor into the library, taking her customary seat in an armchair by the fire - a strategic point in the room that allowed her to observe the entire space. She watched with narrowed eyes as the Doctor paced in front of the hearth, anxiously awaiting the arrival of their guests.

"Doctor, who was she talking about? Who died?"

"He did," Rose answered, nodding toward the Doctor as she collapsed onto the sofa, Sherlock standing behind her, his hands protectively on her shoulders.

"You mean he regenerated," River corrected her, haughtily.

"No, couldn't regenerate. He just… he died."

"But Rose, how?" the Doctor asked, trying to make sense of it all. The man that he left her with should have been able to live out the rest of her forever with her. _At the same time_ as her. Something must have happened in the other world, unless- unless he was wrong.

"He was human."

"Human?" River scoffed. "Who the hell are you talking about?"

The Doctor swallowed hard, understanding flooding through his mind as he remembered the other half of the event in question, Donna Noble. "Human Time Lord biological metacrisis." He rushed to Rose's side and crushed her to him, ignoring both Sherlock and River alike. "I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair, as she broke down in his arms.

Everyone fell silent for several moments, save for Rose's ragged breathing as she attempted to regain control of her emotions. The Doctor felt his hearts breaking for Rose, for the pink and yellow girl that he had left behind with no hope for the future that he had intended for her. He should have known better, known that this was at least a possible outcome after what happened with Donna. There might have been something he could have done for her, for them. Instead though, instead he had chosen to leave it… to look forward.

Rose finally gathered herself and wiped the last of her tears away with the back of her hand. "Sorry, it's just- just being back here, on the TARDIS. It's harder than I thought it would be, yeah? And having to explain this to _you_ when it was always the other way 'round…"

"What happened?"

"It wasn't long after you left," Rose began. "We were there, standing on Darlig Ulv Stranden as you ran away and the TARDIS disappeared. Mum was complaining about being stranded in Norway, trying to get ahold of Pete, when he collapsed." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, remembering the scene as it had played out that day, trying to decide the best way to explain it to the Doctor. "He said- said that he was never meant to be, that he - you - thought it was a gift, an answer to our forever. But a Time Lord brain was never meant to be trapped in a human body… it was too much, his heart wasn't strong enough.

"We made it to the village, and he told me that you would be fine. That you had a future waiting for you, which is why you were able to leave me there with him. He told me about you, River."

"How could this _metacrisis_, know about me?" River asked, momentarily thrown. She hadn't expected to be an active participant in this story.

The Doctor shook his head. "Spoilers," he answered, never taking his eyes from Rose.

"I had tried so long to get back to you, even more so once we realized that the stars were going out. And then when I finally found you, you left me there. Foisting me off on this other version of you - and no matter what you say, he wasn't you. Not really. He said the words that you couldn't, he told me the truth, even when he was dying. And then he asked something of me, the same thing that you had said so many years before."

She paused for a moment, a small smile on her face as she looked the Doctor in the eyes. "He asked me to have a good life, to do that for him. To have a fantastic life." She let out a breathy laugh, and even the Doctor smiled wistfully. "And then he told me he had one more secret to tell me, one thing that you had wanted for me to know but never were able to say. A closely guarded secret that he was meant to tell me, as you were the same. And so with his last breath, he whispered your name."

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

Relief. That's what River felt. The Doctor had never betrayed her with this woman, this Rose Tyler. It was another man entirely. Another man who was, but wasn't, the Doctor. Someone who had all of his memories though, had been born in battle, and died when cut off from the Time Lord and the TARDIS. A human, but one with the mind of a Time Lord. A human who loved another woman - Rose Tyler - because the Time Lord himself did. So much for relief.

"Why are you here?" River asked, finding her voice.

"How were you able to jump across again?" the Doctor added.

Rose looked up at Sherlock, gesturing for him to sit beside her on the couch. "There were cracks," he said, speaking for the first time since they entered the library.

"Cracks," the Doctor repeated.

"Pete's World was sealed off, as you said it would be," Rose explained. "The dimension cannon wouldn't work, no matter what I tried. But then these cracks started to appear, always in random places, but always the same."

"Two parts of space and time that should never have touched," the Doctor breathed. "It was the TARDIS, reaching out across the multiverse."

"How is that possible?"

"She exploded - long, unimportant story. All is fine now. But you saw them?"

"I knew it. You blew up the TARDIS, didn't you?" Rose accused.

"Maybe. But there was a time field, and I knew I had to do it because it had already been done. The point is that everything is fine. Except for you - you are here, when you should be in another universe."

"I know," Rose sighed. "After I lost you - both of you - it was too much. Mum tried to convince me to move on with my life there, so I threw myself into my work. And then the cracks appeared. Torchwood had no idea what they were, why they existed. I worked with the team that was investigating them, and one day something fell through - a piece of wood," she finished significantly. "That's when I knew. If she could come through the crack to me, then perhaps it would work the other way and I could go through and find you."

"Only it didn't work that way," River supplied.

"I didn't even think about it, the compulsion was so strong. I just told my team to say goodbye to my parents and Tony for me, and jumped through. When I came out on the other side, it was London. I turned to look at the crack from this side of things, and it was gone. Vanished into thin air. I didn't know until later that it was this London though, that I was stranded on yet another parallel world."

"Oh, Rose," the Doctor breathed, reaching forward to wipe an errant tear from her eye. Before he could make contact though, she turned her head to look at Sherlock.

"That's enough storytelling for now," he said, pleased to note the look of relief in Rose's eyes. "Let's get you home. Jacqueline arrived back not long before you did."

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

It only took about an hour for Rose to cry herself to sleep in Sherlock's arms. While it wasn't something that he would ever fully be used to dealing with, he definitely had become more comfortable with emotional displays when they came from his wife or daughter. It had certainly been a long and exhausting day for everyone, but he couldn't be sure whether the emotional toll that recounting painful memories had taken was actually worth it.

Once satisfied that her breathing was slow and even though, Sherlock extricated himself from his wife's embrace and silently made his way to the sitting room. He knew that the only way to clear his head would be to play his violin, but he didn't want to risk waking Rose or Jackie. So, he gathered the instrument and decided to go downstairs to the flat once occupied by Mrs. Hudson.

He smiled sadly as he entered the sitting room, noting that it was surprisingly clean with much of the old furniture still in place. Despite the fact that it's former inhabitant had long since gone, Rose took care to maintain the rooms as a sort of homage to the woman that had become a surrogate grandmother to her. Over the years a few newer items had made their way into the rooms as well: a flat-screen television, a mirrored wall and ballet bar, and a variety of computer equipment, allowing them to become a mixture of dance studio, storage, and rec room.

And so it was here that Sherlock lifted his Stradivarius and began to play the Chaconne from Bach's Partita in D minor, losing himself in the music.

By the end of the piece, he was aware that someone was standing in the hallway listening. He had a vague impression of who it was, but didn't pay them any attention, instead choosing to allow them to make the first move.

"That was beautiful," the Doctor said. "Bravo. Johann himself couldn't have done better." Sherlock simply raised an eyebrow in response. "Right. Well, I just thought I'd bring this little one over for Jackie," he continued, indicating the fish he was carrying. "To replace the one that Rose took from your brother's home."

"Thank you. I'm sure they will both be thrilled." Sherlock turned his attention back to the violin, hoping that the Doctor would recognize his dismissal.

He was wrong.

"Can I ask you something, Sherlock?"

"If you must."

Sherlock watched with skilled indifference as the Doctor fidgeted where he stood. It appeared that the alien was unsure of how to begin what was sure to be an awkward conversation, no doubt seeking more answers that Rose had yet to provide. It was another minute before he stopped hesitating and finally cleared his throat to speak.

"Is she happy?"

Once again Sherlock raised his brow in question. This was not the line of questioning he had anticipated. "Yes, I believe that she is. Very much so."

The Doctor smiled wistfully. "Good," he sighed. "That's all I ever wanted for her, you know." He paused for a moment, his sudden stillness taking Sherlock by surprise, before he looked at the younger man and shook his head. "How did it happen? I mean, I _know _how she got here. But this. You, Rose. I'm sure she's told you that-"

"That I didn't exist in either of her universes?" Sherlock interrupted. "Yes, I am aware."

"It's amazing, isn't it? The way that the universe works? How sometimes although you don't end up where you want to go, you always where you're needed the most."

"And you think that you were 'needed' here, Doctor?" Sherlock could feel the rage building within him once again, but tried his best to fight it back. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he attacked the Doctor in his own home this time.

"Yes," he answered simply. "Well, no. I don't think that she needed me, but that I needed her. It's been so long, and I never knew. I needed to know, _need _to know," he corrected himself.

Sherlock set the violin carefully down on the side table and ran a hand through his hair. "Precisely what is it that you _need _to know then?"

Wordlessly, the Doctor gestured to an old, floral armchair before taking a seat. "Who is she here? I don't doubt her story of how she got here, but she had nothing, no one. Here she is though a life of her own, and no questions asked."

Collapsing onto the loveseat opposite, Sherlock drew in a long, slow breath. This was going to take a while. "There was a Rose Tyler on this world, a long time ago. She and her parents died in a car accident when she was a baby. That helped things."

"But how?"

"Rose is very... _skilled _where technology is concerned," Sherlock replied, smirking slightly. It was, in fact, those very skills that had caused her to be brought to his attention in the first place. "It is amazing really. However it put her on the radar of several... problematic individuals. She has an instinct for computer systems, the likes of which I had never seen. And certain people were not able to appreciate that."

The Doctor tilted his head in confusion. Was Sherlock implying what he thought he was implying? "Rose Tyler is a hacker?"

"Best in the world," he said proudly. "There are some organizations still trying to track down the Bad Wolf. Imagine their surprise if they discovered _he_ was _just Rose Tyler_."

The unlikely companions sat in silence for a few moments, one lost in thought and the other unwilling to say more unless specifically asked. It appeared to Sherlock that the Doctor was once again attempting to verbalize exactly what it was he was looking for, so he waited.

"She's never been 'just Rose Tyler,' you know," the Doctor finally said. "Yes, she became the Bad Wolf, but she always will be the Defender of Earth."

"And that is exactly what she set out to do upon arriving here."

"How so?"

Sherlock sighed and stood. "Wait here," he said, heading for the back of the flat which had been transformed from kitchen to makeshift office. He filled the kettle in short order and turned it on. He expected that sitting with a cuppa might help him get through the rest of the evening. While waiting for the kettle to boil, he began sifting through the papers on the desk that Rose had set up in the room.

Shortly after Mrs. Hudson passed away, Rose had started using the space for her work. She always preferred having a tea kettle nearby, and when Jackie was a baby it was easier to be near a sink, and this was the only option other than working upstairs where Sherlock met with clients. That and there was plenty of space for her own secure servers, something that Sherlock was actually a bit jealous of.

At the sound of the kettle clicking off, Sherlock was called back to the task at hand. He quickly fixed two cups of tea, not bothering to ask how the Doctor took his. Grabbing a manila folder from the desk, he made his way back to the lounge where the Doctor was waiting and unceremoniously shoved a steaming mug into the other man's hand.

"There is no Torchwood on this world," he began. "That was Rose's first step when she arrived, to try and find Captain Harkness, and thereby try to contact you. Once she realized that neither existed, it was easier for her to spot the other subtle differences between this universe and either of her previous ones.

"When she started her search, she had very limited means to do so. She had no money, no home, and no computer. She had to use the public machines at an Internet café, the library, anywhere that would give her anonymous access. She was able to make it behind secured firewalls, but had to always change location as her IP addresses were traced. And that is how she first came to the attention of the CIA."

"The CIA? Why-"

A smug smile crossed Sherlock's face as he opened the folder, pulling out a sheet of paper that appeared to be a dossier. "Rose never was one to simply sit on the sidelines and observe. She wanted to know everything, see where this world was in terms of alien encounters and technology. It had become her area of expertise, after all.

"Unfortunately for them, she was not pleased with what she found. There were abuses of information and power, technologies that shouldn't yet be known somehow making their way into secret laboratories. Individuals that had been... _acquired_ were being held, confined and tortured for research rather than allowed to return home."

The Doctor felt his own blood boil at the very thought, so he could only imagine how Rose would have reacted. She was always the very essence of humanity, wanting to help those who were suffering, keeping him in check when he was about to go too far. "What happened to them?"

"Once she secured a computer network of her own, Rose hacked into the systems and corrupted the data. Years of research, gone in the blink of an eye, replaced with a demand for the visitors to be released. She offered little in return other than a calling card and a promise not to inform the public of what she had uncovered if they complied."

"And this file?"

"A crudely pieced together dossier of the man they believed her to be. It was provided to the individual that the CIA had contracted to hunt and dispose of the Bad Wolf," he paused, taking in the Doctor's terrified expression. Shaking his head, Sherlock continued. "Obviously Mary did not succeed in this mission."

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**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. Make me happy?**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: And now a little bit of what several of you were asking for... a glimpse into the past. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 16**

The Doctor sat in stunned silence as he digested Sherlock's words. Mary, the wife of Dr. John Watson and Abigail's mother, had been sent to kill Rose? He felt as though he was missing some key piece of information.

He listened with rapt attention as Sherlock continued to tell Rose's story, how she befriended Mary and helped her to wipe her slate clean, and how Mary in turn had put Rose in touch with individuals who had the ability to provide documentation to create a past for her. Mary started a new, public life as Rose remained hidden behind her firewalls, serving as the watchdog that Torchwood should have been.

It appeared that, although she had managed to evade the Americans quite easily, she wasn't as fortunate with international organizations. In her new found line of work, she gradually made her way into the secure database systems of UNIT, a top secret subdivision of Interpol in this world, and after doing so the Bad Wolf was unable to hide its unease at their lack of universal diplomacy. Instead, she had hacked her way up the ranks of the organization until she reached their (would be) untouchable leaders - which is how she found herself one day sitting across a desk from a certain Mycroft Holmes.

"Mycroft was not foolish enough to arrest her," Sherlock contributed. "He was impressed by her skill. At such a young age, this seemingly average girl from nowhere - with no official past - had garnered an international reputation and was highly esteemed by the others within her chosen profession."

"But you said that Mary helped her," the Doctor countered.

"She did," Sherlock agreed. "And while those papers and Rose's falsified online history were enough to fool the local bank or store clerk, it wasn't enough for someone of my dear brother's calibre. And so, each fully aware of what the other was capable of, they struck a bargain: she would freelance for him as needed, and he would provide irrefutable legal documentation for the background of her choosing."

"Is that how you met her then?" the Doctor asked. "Not because of Mary, but because of Mycroft?"

"Ultimately, yes. I was working a case that the Commonwealth had a vested interest in. A collection of highly classified documents had been leaked, with the promise of more, and a group of _cyber activists_, as they called themselves, had taken up the cause of protecting the man responsible. Unfortunately though, the individuals harbouring the fugitive kept turning up dead soon after he had moved on to the next safe house.

"I attempted to gain favour with the group in an effort to find him, as his life was clearly in danger as well, but knowing who I was, they didn't trust me. Instead, they drained my accounts and posted plans for various assassination attempts from my home IP address. Rudimentary, but effective.

"And that, Doctor, is how I came back from the Yard to find Rose Tyler in my sitting room."

"_Happy birthday, Mr. Holmes," the young woman said as he entered the sitting room. She was sitting in his usual chair, clearly waiting for his arrival, with the slightest hint of amusement in her smile._

_Sherlock was used to arriving home to find unexpected guests in his sitting room. Typically these were prospective clients though, and something about this girl told him that there was nothing 'typical' about her. The way that she was sitting, one leg tucked under herself as the other dangled casually to the floor, made her appear at home. The ends of her hair showed signs of damage from prolonged bleaching, but the roots seemed to be healthy enough in a honey blonde colour. Her style of dress was nothing to note, a simple denim skirt and purple jumper, although she appeared to be wearing Chuck Taylors, which struck him as an odd choice. _

"_You would appear to have been misinformed, Miss…?_

"_True," she nodded, ignoring his question. "But a few taps onto a well connected keyboard and that can be changed. Much like your account information."_

_Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?" _

"_I understand that you have made some enemies, Mr. Holmes. I've been asked to help resolve that."_

"_And why should I trust you?"_

_The girl smiled, and Sherlock noted the way the tip of her tongue peeked out from between her teeth. "What have you got to lose at this point? You've no money, have only just been released from police custody, and once again your reputation is in danger of being questioned. The world forgave the great Sherlock Holmes once, but do you really think that they'd do it again?"_

_For whatever reason, Sherlock found that he was unable to argue with her. Her logic was sound. People were idiots and believed whatever tripe they were fed by the media. "Who sent you?"_

"_A much better question, although I'm a bit disappointed that you haven't worked that out yet." She suddenly stood and walked across the room to the table where his laptop was sitting open. Had he left it that way? No, he hadn't. His eyes grew wide as she entered his password, ?7437L0ck!, quickly gaining access to his computer. "Easy enough, Mr. Holmes. Perhaps try being a little less vain next time though?" _

_Pulling up a secure browser, she began typing away at a speed even his trained eye could barely keep pace with. She worked her way through page after page, entering password after password, until she arrived in what appeared to be a primitive (in internet terms) chat room. It was there that he finally noticed the username she had chosen: Bad Wolf._

Sherlock's mouth quirked up slightly at the memory. How far they had come since that initial meeting… He had recognized the pseudonym immediately, having come across it during a handful of other cases, but never had he expected that the person behind it would be a 20-something bottle blonde from south London.

"Rose vouched for me with the group, no questions asked, convincing them that I was trying to help, not harm the man. Thanks to her connections within the organization, we were able to prevent any additional murders from taking place, although it turned out that the man we had been hunting was responsible for them. After the arrest was made, I came home to find that my accounts were all back in order and a new text message on my mobile wishing me, once again, a very happy birthday."

For his part, the Doctor remained uncharacteristically still and simply listened, learning more about who Rose had become. He always knew that she was exceptional, but to hear how much she had grown - the university degrees that she now possessed, the people she had helped, the accountability she ensured was maintained - made his hearts swell with pride.

It was only after learning more about the family that she had established with Sherlock - both the close friends in Mary and John, as well as Sherlock's brother and parents, not to mention Jackie - that the Doctor finally broke his silence. "This is all truly remarkable, Sherlock... This life that you have built, both of you. It's nearly everything that I ever dreamed for Rose, and I hope you will know that I am forever in your debt."

"If only I could take the credit for that," Sherlock replied. "I'm afraid that what you're referring to is all Rose."

The Doctor smiled at that and nodded. He completely understood Sherlock's words. Rose had been so much more to him than simply another companion, and it appeared that her legacy was to follow her wherever her life took her. Getting to his feet, the Doctor nodded again. "River and I… we'll be leaving in the morning."

"I sincerely hope that you won't just run off this time," Sherlock said. "She deserves the chance at an actual goodbye."

"Quite right," the Doctor replied, smiling slightly in spite of himself. "Goodnight, Sherlock."

"Goodnight, Doctor."

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**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. They are always appreciated!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Have I mentioned how great you all are? I love seeing all of the reviews/follows/favorites for this story... But I do have to say one thing: this is the next to last chapter. Only one more remains after this. Consider yourselves warned.**

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**Chapter 17**

Rose awoke with a groan to the comforting aroma of tea coming from a steaming mug on the nightstand next to her. She stretched carefully, trying to shake the unease that followed a night of fitful sleep, complete with dreams that were filled with loved ones just out of reach and unsaid words on the tip of her tongue. Collapsing back onto the pillows, she heard the familiar morning sounds of Jackie and Sherlock bickering in their usual way as one of them - most likely Jackie - moved about the kitchen making breakfast.

Just as she was about to sink back into the oblivion of sleep, she heard it: a mechanical wheezing sound that was unmistakable to anyone who had ever heard it. "No!" she yelled, her eyes instantly popping open as she threw the duvet off and bolted out of bed and to the door.

"Mum?" Jackie asked, watching the blur that was a nightshirt-clad Rose run through the kitchen and sitting room and down to the front door.

Throwing open the front door, Rose ran out onto the sidewalk just in time to see the TARDIS dematerialize. Again. After everything that had happened in the past, everything that they had been through over the last 48 hours, how could he just leave her again without a proper goodbye? She didn't know why she was surprised, but all the same she felt as though a knife were twisting through her heart. He had seemed so happy to see her again, so relieved to know what had become of her, so remorseful for how he had left her before. And then for him to simply run away, again…

"Rose?"

The voice came from behind her, and she immediately tensed. Spinning on her heel, she found herself face to face with the Doctor. There was no decision to be made, no question in her mind. She acted out of pure instinct, slapping the Doctor across the face with enough force to send him staggering for a moment. Watching his reaction, Rose couldn't stop hers. The tears began to fall - hot, angry tears - and she found herself winding herself into his different-yet-familiar embrace, crying into the lapel of his jacket as he hugged her close and ran a comforting hand over her hair.

"I thought you left again," she choked out.

"No," he replied, tightening his grip around her. "Not yet. Just thought I'd move her inside to make things a bit less conspicuous... You know, first time for everything." Rose laughed at his words, her face still buried in his shoulder. Feeling bolder than usual, as well as a bit nostalgic, the Doctor grinned and kissed the top of her head. "Come along, Rose Tyler. I believe my ship has a few things for you."

"Allons-y, Doctor."

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Sherlock had long since grown accustomed to the fact that Rose held hands with most everyone she considered a friend. It had taken him by surprise, the first time she took his hand in hers. He wasn't one for physical contact, but something about her made it seem perfectly natural.

Seeing his wife enter their sitting room hand-in-hand with this particular man though, _in her nightclothes_ no less, very nearly made his blood boil. This was a man who hadn't truly existed in his world before, but whose presence was currently inescapable, although he hoped to be free of him in short order. He mentally chided himself for the surge of jealousy that he still felt at the Doctor's presence. Rose had made it perfectly clear to him that there was no need for these insecurities, and he himself had felt sure of this fact even hours before, but despite this Sherlock was forced to admit to himself that he was only _human_.

It took a moment, but Sherlock was suddenly aware of Rose's hand in his, tugging his arm up in an attempt to force him to rise. Blinking himself back into the present, he gave in and allowed her to lead him back to their room where she proceeded to dress.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "You were a bit deeper in thought than usual out there."

"Just ready for things to return to normal, I suppose." Rose's face fell at the comment. She knew that he had been anxious about the Doctor's visit, but the idea of the Time Lord leaving weighed heavily on her. "I didn't mean to say-"

"No, I understand."

"Rose?"

She looked up into the mirror, surprised by the blatant uncertainty on his face in the reflection.

Sherlock wasn't sure where to begin. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that it was only her happiness that mattered, that she was everything to him. But those were not the words that escaped his lips. "Please don't go," he breathed.

"Oh, my love," Rose sighed, caressing his cheek. "You can be such an idiot sometimes, you know that?"

Startled, Sherlock jerked back from her. "What?"

"D'you really think that I'd just swan off with the Doctor? Leave everything that I've built here - leave you and Jackie?"

"Well, it was a possibility-"

"No, it wasn't," Rose said as plainly as she possibly could. "Jackie, maybe. But I doubt it."

"But he could take you back home, to your proper world."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Sometimes I honestly forget just how stupid you can be. Listen to me, Sherlock Holmes. _This_ is my home. _You_ are my world. Now shut up, finish getting dressed, and come with me to say goodbye to our guests."

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"Is this her, mum?" Jackie asked, pulling a framed photo from the bureau. "Is this grandmum Jackie?"

Rose looked up from the scrapbook she had been flipping through. When she came across her old door the previous night she wasn't sure what to expect to find behind it. Seeing the room in its state of disarray, just as she had left it nearly 25 years earlier, came as quite a shock.

"That's her," the Doctor answered from his perch in the doorway. "Jackie Tyler, one of the most formidable and awe-inspiring people I have ever had the fortune to meet."

"Who's this duffer then?" she asked, pointing to the man in the photo, an earsplitting grin on his face and a red paper crown on his head.

"Oi!"

Jackie rolled her eyes, the very image of her father. "Doctor then," she said. Putting the picture back down, her attention was drawn to a makeshift bulletin board. Staring hungrily at the pictures there, Jackie took in the unfamiliar smiling faces that joined her mother's in most of the snapshots. "Well, hello Captain!" she cried pulling one of the photos down and jumping onto the bed in between her parents. "Tell me that this is Jack Harkness."

Rose laughed, and even the TARDIS brightened her lights slightly in response. "Oh, god, look at us. I was so young..."

"You're beautiful," Sherlock murmured.

"For a human," she responded, raising her head and making eye contact with the Doctor.

For his part, he looked properly ashamed. "Rose, I never meant to-"

"Of course you did."

"I didn't, I just never thought- and then the TARDIS was trying to- but really you were-"

"Human?" she supplied.

"Exactly," he replied, relieved. That is until he realized what he had just agreed to. "No! Not like that, I'm just... Well..." He chanced a glance at her and was very annoyed to see her grinning at him, once again with that same tongue touched grin. "You said that on purpose."

"And if I did?"

"That's not playing fair. But I am sorry," he said with complete sincerity.

"Quite right, too."

"Rose."

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**A/N: Typical plea for reviews. Now pardon me while I go cry in the corner because the next chapter will be the end. *sob***


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Once again countless thanks, love, hugs, and kisses to my beta extraordinaire, TheWheelWeaves. Without her help and guidance along the way, we never would have gotten to this point. Seriously. She got the goodbyes going, so that's down to her. xoxoxo**

**And thanks to all of you, fearless readers! You make it all worth while. :-)**

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**Chapter 18**

River had been heading back to the console room from checking on the man responsible for the entire journey when she heard the voices coming from a nearby corridor. Knowing that her parents were safely tucked away in another part of the ship (although Amy was definitely growing antsy at their confinement) her curiosity got the best of her, so she made her way toward the voices until she came upon a seemingly familiar door - one that she had passed by often enough, but that would never open for her.

Lurking in the shadows of the TARDIS hallway, she identified the now all-too-familiar voice of Rose. Suddenly she realized what the room must have been: Rose's own room when she travelled with the Doctor. Curious to see what was usually hidden to her - but not yet curious enough to impede on the Tyler-Holmes family - she moved as close as she could while still remaining hidden. She had already suffered enough embarrassment at the hands of that woman, and did not feel up to more.

However, despite what some people may believe, River was not a patient woman. More than anything she was ready for them to leave this parallel world (and _Rose Tyler_) behind and make the journey back to their home universe. Recognizing a lull in the conversation, she decided that it was time to make her presence known.

Standing up straight, her shoulders back and her head held high, River cleared her throat as she approached the door. Before saying a word though, she had to blink back her surprise at seeing the shockingly pink hued room. It was very much the room of a girl in her teens, a far cry from the grown woman currently sitting on the bed flanked by husband and child.

"Looks as though we should be ready whenever you are, Doctor."

"Right," the Doctor nodded absently. "Yes, of course." He took a deep breath and forced a smile onto his face.

"Rose, did you want-" he began, just as she started to say "If you don't mind, could I-" before both started to laugh nervously.

Rose looked over to Sherlock who smiled slightly and nodded before rising. "Come, Jacqueline. Time to go."

"But what about-"

"No one is leaving without saying goodbye. Now shift."

The Doctor watched in bemused wonder as Sherlock kissed the top of Rose's head before taking Jackie's hand in his and leading her from the room. He turned to see River still standing stoically in the doorway, and reached his own hand out to her. As soon as they made contact, he gave her hand a slight squeeze and was pleased to note that she relaxed, even if only by a fraction. It was another second before she nodded as well, and moved to follow Sherlock and Jackie.

"And then there were two," Rose said quietly, patting the now empty spot on the bed beside her. Obediently, the Doctor sat down as instructed and Rose rested her head on his shoulder, his arms finding their way around her waist of their own accord.

"I missed you," he sighed into her hair.

"Every day."

"Me too."

"I went back to see you, you know. I thought I was going to die, and I couldn't let that happen without seeing you again. So I went back to the beginning"

"New Year," she whispered, feeling him nod against her. "You're such a git. I knew I recognized that face, when you first regenerated."

"Clever girl."

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, neither quite ready for the scene that they knew was to come. Even the TARDIS reacted to the melancholy of the moment, her lights dimmed and her hum subdued.

The Doctor tried and failed to speak several times, unsure of where to begin. Just as he was about to try again though, Rose interrupted his thoughts.

"Thank you," she said, pulling back from his embrace. "Thank you for making me who I am."

"I take no credit for that, Rose," he replied, sounding every bit the old man that he was. "All I ever did was tell you to run."

"That's true. And you blew up my job, leaving me out of work." She smirked at the memory, something that felt like it was a hundred years ago now. "But you showed me the stars, a better way to live. I owe so much to you..."

"Don't be ridiculous, you don't owe me anything... In fact, if we're honest, I do owe you-"

Rose reached over and put her hand over his mouth. "Stop it right there. I forgave you a long time ago. Please know that." Smiling again, Rose stood and pulled the Doctor up with her. "Now grab that bag over there, because I need to take some pieces of home with me."

The Doctor watched with heavy hearts as Rose packed various things from her old room into the rucksack. He remembered the last time she carried the bag, the day he lost her at Canary Wharf. After everything that happened that day he had gone back to her flat at the Powell Estate to clean up - making sure that the various alien bits and bobs she had collected and given to Jackie were safely hidden right here in this room. Over the last few centuries, this room had served as his refuge, a place for him to escape the rest of the universe when it all became too much to bear. No doubt that would change from this point on. That is, unless…

"You could stay, Rose Tyler."

She smiled sadly at him as she shook her head. "This life," she began, gesturing around the room, "It is incredible. It dazzles. It changes you. But it is not for me anymore. I've found my place, Doctor. I love my life here. I love my family, my friends." Holding her hand out to him, she wiggled her fingers in invitation. "Walk me home?"

Rose was right, of course. He could see that, she always was. That ability to see things, to just understand them, was part of the reason why he was so keen to have her travel with him in the first place. He wasn't sure if it was fate or chance, but either way, he knew that she belonged here on this world. And that he had been brought here to have this final chance to say goodbye. The universe finally trying to settle some of its debts.

The two of them walked arm in arm through the TARDIS, Rose running her free hand along every bit of the ship that she could reach. The ship seemed to appreciate the gesture and hummed happily at the familiar touch. "I'll miss you too, old girl," Rose whispered when they reached the console room.

Hitching the bag further up on her shoulder, Rose turned and kissed one of the metal struts in the room. "You take good care of him," she instructed looking up at the ceiling. The TARDIS lights brightened briefly in response and Rose nodded. "Good girl."

Rose took one final look around the room and nodded to herself as if cementing her decision. Taking a deep breath, she strode purposely to the doors and stepped out into her sitting room where Sherlock and Jackie were waiting, Sherlock looking more than slightly relieved to see her again, even if the Doctor was right behind her.

"Well, I suppose this is it," River said, joining the group. "It certainly has been an eye-opening experience."

"That it has," Sherlock agreed. "Best of luck in your travels."

"Goodbye, River," Jackie said, stepping forward to hug the woman. "I'm so glad that I got to meet you both!"

River smiled slightly and hugged her back. "It was an honour," she said honestly. "You have an amazing talent, so promise me that you won't give it up."

Jackie giggled as she let go. "Promise."

"Sherlock, Rose," River acknowledged, nodding to each. "Thank you both for your help with the royal… situation. That part was fun."

"River," Rose said, taking her arm in her hand. "Thank you for everything. I know this wasn't easy for you, but she always takes you where you need to go. I think you needed this too. Good luck to you, Dr. River Song."

There was nothing that River could think of to say to that pronouncement, so she simply nodded wordlessly and slipped back into the TARDIS. She sincerely hoped that Rose was wrong, why would she have needed this particular adventure and the trip down memory lane that came with it? And so she stood, just inside the doors, and listened.

Never one for long goodbyes, the Doctor was starting to feel fidgety and nervous. "Right," he declared, clapping his hands together. "Sherlock Holmes. It really was such an honour, not only meeting you, but truly seeing how such a great mind works. You are inspiring a legend, and I cannot-"

"Doctor," Rose interrupted. "Don't. The ego is enough as it is," she smiled, noting the way Sherlock's mouth twitched up as well through his stoic façade.

"Mrs. Holmes," Sherlock said with a smirk, "I'll have you know that, if I am vain, it is about nothing that is not empirically impressive."

"Of course it's not," Rose said, patting his shoulder and smiling patronizingly.

The Doctor felt a twinge in his hearts at the picture of domestic bliss... that adventure he'd never have, and hadn't even been able to have by proxy.

"Right then," he said, rubbing his hands together and packing his sadness behind mania. "It was a pleasure though, Mr. Holmes. Something to tell the grandchildren. Well... someone's grandchildren, anyway. Maybe Craig's..."

"And here comes the oncoming babble," Rose murmured. Some things obviously never changed no matter how many years and regenerations passed.

"Er... right," the Doctor said sheepishly. He turned to Jackie. "And you, Jackie Tyler. It was the greatest honour to meet you. Thank you for... well, thank you for being incredible and brilliant and you. I'm sorry... I'm sorry if I messed up your big night. I'd go back and stop myself, but, well... Reapers."

Rose shuddered slightly at the memory. "No, best to avoid them at all costs."

"Rose Marion Tyler-Holmes," the Doctor said, turning his attention back to her at last.

"Does this make me the Scarecrow then?" she asked, the merest hint of a smile on her face as she realized that the moment they had avoided was indeed upon them.

"Yes, I think so. I will miss you most of all," he admitted, surprised by his own candour. "A fitting analogy, I suppose, after everything we've-" he stopped suddenly, unsure of how to finish the sentence. _Done? Seen? Lost? Survived?_ "I may not have put as much work into this world, but I know you have. So you keep doing that, keep defending her."

Rose mock-saluted him in response. "Try and keep out of trouble, yeah?"

"Trouble?" He scoffed. "That's just the bits in between. But now, off to the next adventure." Sighing heavily, the Doctor turned to head back to his ship so that he no longer had to see Rose's tear-filled eyes.

At the last second - when the time had finally arrived - Rose wasn't sure that she could handle it, watching the Doctor walk away from her again. She knew it was something that had to happen, but that didn't make it hurt any less. Just as he reached the TARDIS door, she called out to him one last time.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Rose?"

"I suppose, if it's my last chance to say it..." she trailed off, looking at the man who had frozen in the doorway of the TARDIS.

"Rose, I-" he began, turning to face her but cut off as she launched herself into his arms for the last time.

"Have a fantastic life," she whispered.

"Quite right, too."

Stepping back from Rose, the Doctor looked down at his pink and yellow human's face only to see a stray tear falling from her eye. Wiping it away with his thumb, he sighed inwardly. Once again, she was right. This was his last chance to tell her those words, words he knew that he should have said so many times before.

"Rose Tyler," he began. "I-"

"Don't you dare," she whispered, hugging him close again. "I knew, I always knew. Now you go and save the world." Placing a final kiss on his forehead, she stepped back and out of his embrace. "Goodbye, Doctor."

"Goodbye, Rose."

Closing the door behind him, the Doctor all but ran to the console to begin their dematerialization sequence. Lost in thought and pausing only to wipe a stray tear of his own, he hadn't noticed that Amy and Rory were standing in the room as well.

"Doctor... Are you okay? Who was that?" Amy asked, curious about the blonde woman she had seen clinging to him only a moment before.

"Rose Tyler," he answered. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the monitor one last time before flipping the switch to leave. "She is the woman who saved me..."

~~~~0~~~~0~~~~0~~~~

Rose stood, frozen, staring at the spot from which the TARDIS had disappeared. She felt Sherlock come to stand behind her, his arms encircling her waist, holding her close as the tears began to fall in earnest. Jackie appeared at her side and took her hand, and together they remained standing there in silence, sharing in her loss.

"Sherlock?" A voice called from downstairs. "Rose? Are you home?" The voice grew closer as footsteps were heard on the stairs. A moment later, John entered the room.

"Thank god," he said, relieved to find the pair of them. Upon closer inspection though, he realized that something was wrong. "What's happened?"

"The Doctor," Sherlock replied quietly. "He's just left."

"Oh. _Oh!_ Rose, I'm so sorry..."

"S'fine," she said, laughing softly through her tears. "Being stupid, I suppose. At least I got to say goodbye this time ."

John nodded sagely, unsure of what to say. Unfortunately, he really did need to speak to Sherlock though.

"How about some tea, mum," Jackie offered, gently leading Rose toward the kitchen after she nodded her assent.

Sherlock kept Rose's hand in his own, allowing his arm to trail behind until she was too far to reach. Watching his wife carefully as she sat at the table, Sherlock finally spoke. "He struck again, didn't he?"

John nodded. "They found the body about an hour ago. It's definitely him, and there was a letter this time - signed 'The Ripper.'"

"The game is on."

_~~~Fin~~~_

**A/N: So there you have it. The end of the road. Please do stay tuned for a future collection of stories (read: one-shots) about Rose & Sherlock's life from the original offering of Swaddled in Pink to this point, if not also before and after. It is going to happen, the first one is almost finished as I type this.**


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